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COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/communitydramapaOObeegiala 


PUBUSHED  UNDER  THE  AUSPICES  OF  THE 
YALE  UNIVERSITY  DRAMATIC  ASSOCIATION 


COMMUNITY   DRAMA 

AND 

PAGFANTRY 


BY 

MVjn'   PORTER   BEEGLE 


INSPIRATION 


/.OITAJIWei^l 


i:. 


COMMUNITY   DRAMA 

AND 

PAGEANTRY 


BY 

MARY  PORTER  REEGLE 

AND 

JACK  RANDALL  CRAWFORD 


NEW  HAVEN:  YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXVI 


COPYRIGHT,  191  6,  BY 
YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


Fiist  published,  May,  1916 
Second  printing,  April,  191 7 


College 
Library 


PREFACE 

Tms  book  is  offered  as  a  preliminary  survey  of  some  of  the 
technical  questions  involved  in  writing  and  staging  pageants  and 
community  drama.  The  main  purpose  has  been  to  make  the 
suggestions  as  practical  as  possible.  For  this  reason  there  has 
been  no  attempt  to  trace  the  history  of  the  various  dramatic 
types  discussed,  nor  to  deal  too  abstractly  with  theories  of  the 
drama. 

The  book  itself  is  the  outgrowth  of  actual  experience  in 
pageantry  and]  community  drama..  In  its  outlines  it  is  based 
upon  the  courses  which  the  authors,  both  jointly  and  separately, 
have  given  for  the  last  three  sessions  at  the  Summer  School  of 
Dartmouth  College.  These  courses  have  been  supplemented  by 
considerable  practical  work  in  staging  performances  at  Hanover, 
N.  H.,  and  elsewhere.  The  authors  therefore  hope  that  the  state- 
ment of  some  of  their  problems  and  the  discussion  of  the  diffi- 
culties which,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  pages,  are  yet  to 
be  solved,  will  help  others  interested  in  the  subject  of  community 
drama  to  arrive  nearer  their  goal. 

In  conclusion  the  authors  wish  to  express  their  thanks  and 
gratitude  to  their  friends  who  have  given  generous  help  in  pre- 
paring the  various  chapters.  In  particular,  thanks  are  due 
to  Arthur  Farwell,  of  New  York  City,  for  criticism  of  the 
chapter  on  music;  and  to  Andrew  Keogh  and  May  Hum- 
phreys of  the  Yale  University  library  for  patience  in  answering 
questions  and  offering  aid  in  compiling  and  checking  the  bibU- 
ography.  Others  who  have  rendered  great  assistance  by  freely 
discussing  their  views  on  pageantry  and  drama  are :  Frank  Chou- 
teau Brown,  President  of  the  American  Pageant  Association; 


viii  PREFACE 

Sam  Hume,  of  Cambridge,  Mass.;  H.  K.  Moderwell;  Will 
Hutchins;  Hue  Mazelet  Luquiens,  who  read  the  chapter  on  color; 
Stuart  Walker,  of  the  Portmanteau  Theatre;  0.  P.  Heggie;  F.  J. 
Walls,  of  the  Yale  School  of  Fine  Arts;  Thomas  G.  Wright,  of 
Yale;  and  many  others.  To  Ira  Hill  acknowledgments  are 
owing  for  permission  to  reproduce  certain  of  the  illustrations, 
and  in  particular,  the  picture  of  the  Morgan  dancers  on  the 
inner  cover.  Last  of  all,  the  authors  wish  to  thank  the  various 
groups  of  students  at  Barnard,  Yale,  and  Dartmouth  who  have 
loyally  cooperated  in  several  experiments  and  productions. 

MARY  PORTER  BEEGLE  JACK  RANDALL  CRAWFORD 

Babnaro  College  The  Sheffield  Scientific  School 

OF  Yale  University. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Tee  Principles  of  Pageantry  and  Commxjnity  Drama  .    .       3 

II.   Types  of  Community  Drama  and  Pageantry 17 

III.  Writing  the  Pageant  Book 44 

IV.  Production 75 

V.  Acting ii3 

VI.   Grouping i3o 

VII.  Color i47 

VIII.   Costume  and  Setting 176 

IX.  The  Dance 190 

X .   Music 234 

XI.   Organization 266 

BIBLIOGRAPHIES 279 

I.   Drama  and  Pageant  Origins 281 

II.   Recent  Books  on  Pageantry 290 

III.  General  Articles  from  Periodicals  on  Pageantry    .    .    .  291 

rV.   Open-air  Theiatres 295 

V.  Engush  Masques 297 

VI.   Dramatic  Technique 297 

VII.  Historical  Criticism  aivd  Technique — Clas.sic:   EIngland  3o3 

VIII.   France 3o4 

IX.  Germany 3o5 

X.  A  Selected  List  of  Dramatic  Criticism  (from  i85o)  .    .    .   3o6 

XI.  A  Selected  List  of  Dramatic  Criticism —  Modern  French  3i2 
XII.  A  Selected  List  of  Dramatic  Criticism  —  Modern  German  3i4 

XIII.  Production  and  Scenic  Art 3i6 

XIV.  Articles  from  Periodicals,  on  Production  and  Scenic  Art   323 
XV.   Euzabethan  Platform  Staging 328 

XVI.   Acting 329 

XVII.    Pantomime 336 

XVIII.    Costume 338 

XIX.   Color 344 

XX.   The  Dance 345 

XXI.  Selected   Bibuography  of  Dramatic,  Folk,  and  Festival 

Mirsic 35o 

XXII.   Pastoral  Drama 354 

XXIII.   Pageant  Texts 355 

Index 357 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Inspiration Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

A  Frieze  (The  Magic  of  the  Hills  —  Dartmouth) 3o 

Grouping  and  Movement  Combined  (Sylvia  Decides  —  Dartmouth)     .    .     3o 

Raised  Back  Stage  and  Grouping  (Greek  Games  —  Barnard) 60 

The  Dell  Theatre.     Hill  School,  Pottstown,  Pa 82 

Outdoor  Theatre.     Dartmouth 100 

Shadows.     Groups  in  Movement  (Sylvia  Decides  —  Dartmouth)   ....   100 

Grouping i3/i 

Mass  and  Line  Group i4a 

Grouping.     Indoors  (Greek  Games  —  Barnard) i/ia 

Bohemian  Club  Stage.     California 178 

Setting  —  Light  and  Shade  (Granville  Beu-ker's  production  of  Iphigeneia 

in  Tauris).     (Yale  Bowl) 186 

The  Discus  Thrower.     Barnard iga 

Joy 213 

Groups  in  Movement  and  at  Rest  (Greek  Games  —  Barnard) 260 

Grouping.    Outdoors 260 


COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 


PART  I 

Chapter  I 

THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND 
COMMUNITY  DRAMA 

"Plays  which  do  not  observe  the  classical  rules  must  observe  rules  of  some  kind  if 
they  are  to  please."  —  Lessing. 

MR.  GORDON  CRAIG  has  said  that  "when  Drama/ 
went  indoors  it  died."  ^  This  statement  is  worth 
analyzing  here,  not  so  much  because  Mr.  Craig  is  an 
authority  on  theories  of  the  drama  as  for  the  reason 
that  the  greater  half  of  this  book  will  be  concerned  with 
the  problems  of  open-air  plays.  Is  this  sweeping  state- 
ment true?  Will  the  simple  process  of  bringing  drama 
back  into  the  open  air  revive  it?  These  questions  require 
at  least  a  preliminary  survey  before  the  practical  questions 
of  modem  pageantry  can  be  examined. 

The  two  great  periods  of  the  drama  were  the  Greek 
and  the  Elizabethan.  Both  these  dramas  were  open-air 
dramas,  and  yet  in  spite  of  this  fact,  Mr.  Craig's  asser- 
tion is  by  no  means  vindicated.  For  the  moment  the 
Greek  drama  may  be  left  out.  It  represents  a  pure  type 
of  the  outdoor  performance  whose  structural  aspects 
were  determined  by  the  conditions  under  which  it  was  to 
be  produced.  Unless,  therefore,  Mr.  Craig  is  prepared 
to   maintain  that  all  drama  since   ^Eschylus,   Sophocles, 

»  See  Toxjoards  a  New  Theatre,  p.  7. 


4  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

and  Euripides  has  been  lifeless,  the  example  of  Greek 
drama  is  not  enough  to  prove  his  point.  For  no  one  who 
reads  Shakespeare  will  beheve  that  his  greatness  as  a 
dramatist  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he  was  writing  for 
an  open-air  stage.  The  Elizabethan  platform  stage  was 
a  semi-outdoor  stage  chiefly  because  of  the  accident  of 
its  evolution  from  an  inn-yard.  Nevertheless  it  had  a 
completely  roofed-in  back-stage  and  balcony,  and  even  a 
large  portion  of  the  fore-stage  was  roofed  over.  More 
important,  however,  than  these  accidental  details  is  the 
indisputable  fact  that  Shakespeare  and  the  other  Eliza- 
bethan playwrights  could  imagine  their  stage  at  will  to 
be  the  interior  of  a  house  or  a  blasted  heath.  In  the 
Greek  drama  the  scene  was  definitely  the  open  air.  In 
no  one  of  the  Greek  tragedies  were  "interiors"  called  for.^ 
Shakespeare  could  set  his  scene  anywhere  from  the  sea- 
coast  of  Bohemia  to  the  banqueting  hall  of  Macbeth's 
castle. 

This  difference  is  important  for  the  following  reason: 
a  theatre  is  not  really  an  open-air  theatre,  whatever  the 
accident  of  its  architecture  may  be,  if  the  dramatists  who 
write  for  it  do  not  consciously  recognize  it  to  be  an  open- 
air  theatre.  Thus  in  the  Greek  theatre  its  outdoor  char- 
acter assisted  in  the  creation  of  the  dramatist's  illusion; 
on  the  Elizabethan  stage  the  afternoon  sunshine  must 
often  have  been  a  positive  hindrance.  At  any  rate  the 
dramatists  ignored  it  when  writing  their  plays.    A  ghost 

'  In  certain  plays  the  scene  opens  revealing  an  interior,  but  this  is  a 
different  matter  from  conceiving  the  major  portion  of  the  action  to  be  within 
doors. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA        5 

walking  along  the  battlements  at  Elsinore  or  a  knocking 
upon  the  castle  gateway  at  midnight  were  incidents  which 
defied  the  dayhght.  The  illusion  had  to  be  obtained  by 
making  the  magic  of  the  poet's  words  seize  upon  the 
audience's  imagination,  and  then  the  stage  became  a  local 
habitation  for  anything  the  dramatist  wished  them  to 
see.  It  was  precisely  because  the  dramatists  were  ignor- 
ing the  limitations  of  their  stage  that  Sir  Phihp  Sidney 
launched  his  famous  complaint.*  In  the  end,  however, 
the  dramatists  triumphed,  because  they  were  also  poets. 
What  the  stage  productions  lacked  the  poet's  word  magic 
achieved.  For  instance,  no  one  will  doubt  that  the  pro- 
duction of  A  Midsummer  NighVs  Dream  at  the  Globe 
fell  far  short  of  the  dramatist's  conception.  Indeed 
Shakespeare  himself  has  spoken,  in  the  choruses  of  Henry 
the  Fifth,  of  this  gulf  between  what  the  poet's  eye  can  see 
and  the  stage  perform.  Although  Shakespeare  was  master 
of  all  the  technical  side  of  drama,  as  well  as  poet,  he  did 
not  hesitate  to  ignore  the  limitations  of  his  stage  while 
doing  all  that  was  possible  to  make  up  for  these  handicaps 
by  his  mastery  of  word  painting. 

Mr.  Craig's  assertion  is  in  reahty  untenable  unless  he 
denies  that  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  are  drama.  But 
the  statement  serves  a  useful  purpose.  <JiJpon  begimiing 
an  examination  of  the  principles  of  pageantry  and  com- 
munity drama  Mr.  Craig's  dictum  helps  to  remind  us 
that  dramatic  representation  is  a  problem  of  first  deter- 
mining the  conditions  under  which  the  performance  is 
to  be  given/)  What  loss  our  imaginations  have  suffered 

•  See  his  Apology  for  Poesie. 


6  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

since  the  days  of  Elizabeth  is  hard  to  say,  but  we  can 
no  longer  believe  a  bare  platform  with  perhaps  a  tapestry 
or  two  to  be  the  interior  of  the  Doge's  palace  at  Venice. 
We  are  even  beginning  to  regard  a  mass  of  waving  canvas 
crudely  painted  and  hghted  as  but  a  poor  substitute  for 
the  forest  of  Arden.  We  have  either  gone  too  far,  or  not 
far  enough.  To  turn  back  is  not  possible;  we  neither 
wish  to  have  again  the  Ehzabethan  stage,  nor  can  we, 
if  we  would,  feel  at  a  great  tragedy  played  in  the  open 
air  the  rehgious  exaltation  that  this  performance  had  for 
a  Greek  audience.  There  is  only  one  thing  to  do  with 
oiu"  drama  and  that  is  to  try  to  go  forward.  We  must 
begin  again  and  do  what  the  Greeks  and  Elizabethans 
did, — evolve  a  drama  which  is  representative  of  our  day 
and  generation.  If  it  is  a  true  drama  it  will  reflect  our 
hves  and  thoughts  and  appeal  to  our  imaginations.  It 
will  not  be  an  archaeological  curiosity  —  a  revival  of  the 
past  —  but  a  hving  thing. 

The  drama  neither  hves  nor  dies  because  it  happens 
to  be  indoors  or  out;  hving  drama  has  been  written  for 
both  types  of  theatre.  What  kills  drama  is  to  cease  to 
look  upon  it  as  an  art.  If  it  is  relegated  to  the  position 
of  a  comparatively  unimportant  amusement,  it  will  be 
no  better  than  we  think  it.  The  first  principle  then  in 
studying  pageantry  is  to  recognize  it  as  one  branch  of 
dramatic  art.  Furthermore  it  is  a  branch  which  the 
authors  of  this  book  beheve  offers  at  the  present  time 
the  most  distinct  opportunity  for  enabUng  the  whole 
art  to  advance. 

It  is  another  truism  of  modem  dramatic  criticism  to 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA        7 

describe  drama  as  the  most  democratic  of  the  eirts.  But 
is  this  really  true  to-day?  Is  an  art  which  is  almost  ex- 
clusively in  the  hands  of  professional  entertainers  demo- 
cratic? The  audience  share  in  the  creation  only  to  the 
extent  of  giving  or  withholding  the  stimulus  of  their 
applause.  Behind  the  line  of  the  foothghts  there  is  an 
infinite  realm  of  technical  mysteries  of  which  audiences 
know  nothing.  They  see  what  is  put  before  them  and 
either  like  or  dislike  it  and,  as  far  as  they  are  concerned, 
there  the  matter  ends.  The  drama  is  not  theirs,  for  they 
have  no  share  in  it.  They  may  vote  upon  the  finished 
product,  but  their  powers  are  negative.  They  do  not 
initiate  legislation;  they  can  only  veto  or  approve.  Their 
concern  with  the  drama  cannot  possibly  extend  beyond 
a  feehng  that  they  were  interested  or  entertained  by 
certain  plays  and  bored  by  others.  Which  it  was  is  of 
no  vital  concern,  for  the  matter  is  not  in  their  hands. 

j^geantry  begins  with  a  conscious  attempt  to  restore 
to  the  people  a  share  in  the  creation  and  development  of 
dramatic  art;  in  other  words,  to  make  drama  truly  demo- 
cratic.  The  drama  originated  in  the  hands  of  the  people 
and  there  it  remained  as  long  as  there  was  a  compelling 
power  in  the  drama  to  hold  their  interest.  Only  when  it 
became  elaborated  into  a  professional  art  did  it  lose  its 
inner  force  and  place  itself  in  competition  with  other 
amusements.  When  it  had  done  that,  people  were  of 
several  minds  concerning  it.  Some  preferred  atliletic  games, 
the  circus,  or  even  bear-baiting  —  to  glance  backward 
at  a  few  of  its  one-time  competitors.  This  inner  force 
which  kept  drama  a  democratic  art  both  in  Greece  and 


8  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

England  for  so  many  centuries  was  religion.  Drama  was 
first  a  religious  ceremony  in  both  countries,  and  as  long 
as  these  peoples  Hved  their  religion  they  kept  drama  in 
their  own  hauids. 

Lest  this  statement  appear  as  sweeping  a  generalization 
as  the  one  of  Mr.  Craig's  with  which  we  began,  let  us 
look  further  at  this  point.    It  is  of  couree  well  known  that 

Orppk_jjfannfl    tnnlt    its   risgLJP   viHagPi   anrl   folk   ceremonial 

festivals  in  honor  more  particularly  of  the  god  Dionysus. 
These  festivals  were  community  affairs  in  which  at  first 
all  took  part.  Even  down  through  the  period  of  the 
great  dramatists,  ^^schylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides, 
although  drama  was  now  the  work  of  conscious  artists 
instead  of  a  spontaneous  festival  of  dance  and  choral 
song,  yet  the  drama  was  still  a  rehgious  ceremony.  The 
god  Dionysus  was  actually  present  in  the  theatre  and  all 
was  done  in  his  honor.  Again,  t(he  threatre  was  not  a 
daily  entertainment  offered  by  professional  actors  but  a 
rare  festival  which  occurred  but  once  or  twice  a  year,  and 
^e_performers  were  chosen  from  among  the  citizens.  A 
similar  state  of  things  was  true  of  the  French  and  Enghsh 
miracle  and  mystery  plays.  Once  more  we  find  drama 
evolving  from  rehgious  ceremonial.  As  drama  grew  in 
interest  and  importance  in  the  popular  mind  it  was  taken 
out  of  the  cathedrals  into  the  care  of  such  democratic 
organizations  as  the  trades  guilds.  And  hke  the  Greek 
drama  it  was  an  infrequent  festival  associated  with  par- 
ticular seasons  of  the  year.  It  is  logical  to  point  out, 
however,  that  in  England  drama  did  not  reach  its  highest 
point  of  development   during  the  time  when  it  was  a 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA        9 

religious  festival  in  the  hands  of  the  people.  In  fact, 
artistically  the  drama  deteriorated,  although  making  some 
progress  as  an  academic  Uterary  form.  The  morality  plays 
lack  the  sincerity  and  naive  faith  that  were  characteristic 
of  the  miracle  plays,  but  this  change  is  more  directly 
traceable  to  the  influence  of  the  Renaissance  and  Refor- 
mation than  to  the  failure  of  democratic  control  of  the 
drama.  The  simple  rehgious  faith  of  the  Middle  Ages 
disappeared  before  the  new  learning,  and  with  it  went  the 
religious  significance  of  the  drama.  Unlike  the  Greek 
playwrights,  the  great  Elizabethan  dramatists  did  not 
begin  to  write  for  the  stage  until  the  drama  had  already 
become  a  professional  art.  Bishop  John  Bale  alone  seems 
to  have  recognized  something  of  the  opportunity  which 
rehgious  drama  offered  a  man  of  letters,  but  the  pioneers 
who  were  needed  to  create  a  definite  structure  and  tech- 
nique for  the  miracle  play  —  to  do  what  Marlowe  began 
to  do  for  the  stage  and  what  Shakespeare  finished  — 
were  not  forthcoming  in  Bishop  Bale's  day. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  the  drama  has  been  a  democratic 
art  only  at  those  periods  of  its  development  when  people 
regarded  it  as  a  part  of  their  rehgious  worship  and  hence 
considered  the  drama  as  having  an  intimate  connection 
with  their  lives.  This  has  been  true  of  the  development 
of  the  oriental  drama,  no  less  than  the  European.  Take 
away  the  ceremonial  character  from  drama,  and  it  is  at  once 
upon  the  same  footing  as  the  other  arts,  or  may  even  fall 
below  them  in  popular  esteem  and  be  regarded  merely  as 
an  amusement.  Therefore,  in  attempting  the  revival  of 
pageantry  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  making  drama  once 


10         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

more  a  democratic  art,  it  is  proper  to  ask  if  this  ideal  can 
be  attained.  WTiat  compelling  interest  or  inner  force  shall 
there  be  in  pageantry  to  enlist  the  people  in  its  behalf? 
The  rehgious  significance  of  drama  cannot  be  re-created, 
for  we  should  have  to  have  a  separate  drama  for  each 
sect.  Moreover  the  professional  art  of  the  stage  has 
reached  to-day  a  high  level  of  achievement,  notwithstand- 
ing the  pessimistic  attitude  toward  the  theatre  of  a  certain 
school  of  critics.  Can  a  simple  and  naive  folk-drama 
compete  artistically  with  the  modem  theatre?  Answers  to 
these  questions  cannot  be  given  with  assurance.  Modem 
pageantry  has  but  a  few  years  of  experiment  behind  it, 
and  whether  it  does  or  does  not  hold  out  a  way  of  drawing 
nearer  that  art  work  of  the  future  that  Richard  Wagner 
saw  in  his  dream,  time  alone  can  tell.  The  authors  of 
this  book  beheve  that  it  does. 

The  most  difficult  question  to  solve  is  where  to  look  for 
the  common  interest  which  wiU  make  pageantry  vital. 
If  pageantry  falls  into  the  hands  of  a  few  enthusiasts,  to 
be  exploited  as  a  novelty,  it  will  have  a  short  life.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  it  becomes  recognized  that  pageantry 
can  add  color  to  modem  life  as  well  as  play  its  part  in 
community  cooperation,  —  that  it  offers  an  opportunity 
for  individual  and  community  self-expression  in  several 
arts,  —  its  future~wiir3e  secure.  ~  The  weakness  of  our 
present-day  democracy  is  not  in  its  industrial  organiza- 
tion but  in  its  means  of  recreation.  Men  work  well  enough 
together.  Competition,  efficiency  systems,  and  labor 
unions  have  proved  the  value  of  cooperation  in  labor. 
But  men  have  not  rediscovered  what  at  one  time  every 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA       11 

man  knew — how  to  play  together;  that  the  world  needs 
more  rational  recreation  is  apparent  to  anyone  with  any 
experience  of  conditions  in  our  large  industrial  centers. 
And  the  need  is  just  as  urgent  in  the  isolated  agricultural 
districts.  The  appeal  of  pageantry  must  rest  then  upon 
its  practical  value  in  our  modem  life.  This,  for  the 
present,  the  pageant  worker  must  endeavor  to  demon- 
strate that  pageantry  possesses. 

In  demonstrating  the  practical  value  of  pageantry, 
however,  there  are  one  or  two  dangers  to  avoid.  If 
pageantry  is  openly  proclaimed  as  an  instrument  of  edu- 
cation and  social  reform,  these  interests  are  apt  to  over- 
shadow its  true  importance  as  an  art.  It  is  even  doubtful 
if  any  art  can  succeed  as  a  propaganda  and  remain  an 
art.  The  great  value  of  art  to  a  democracy  is  that  it 
produces  as  by-products  education  and  social  betterment. 
Keep  pageantry  artistic  and  the  other  things  follow. 
The  study  necessary  to  put  a  historical  pageant  upon  the 
stage  has  an  educational  value  not  to  be  estimated;  the 
cooperation  and  companionship  in  recreative  work  which 
a  community  experiences  while  busy  with  the  production 
are  in  themselves  the  elements  of  social  reform.  Pageantry 
does  not  present  a  lecture  upon  the  theory  of  education  or 
of  social  reform,  but  it  is  both  these  things  in  actual 
practice.  In  short,  the  text  of  a  pageant  should  be  neither 
a  sermon  nor  a  propagandist  document. 

The  correct  way  to  approach  the  subject  of  pageantry 
can  hardly  be  overemphasized.  It  is  importiint  to  attract 
and  not  to  repel  interest.  Zeal  for  the  cause,  if  wrongly 
directed,  does  only   harm.     Pageantry  does  not  aim  to 


12         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

revive  a  disguised  species  of  morality  play.  It  is  not 
something  sugared  to  conceal  an  ill  taste.  In  Horace's 
well-known  phrase  the  object  of  drama  is  to  give  instruc- 
tion and  pleasure.  By  "pleasure"  he  clearly  meant  "aes- 
thetic pleasure,"  the  pleasure  which  we  derive  from  all 
true  works  of  art.  On  the  stage  this  pleasure  results  from 
a  satisfaction  of  our  best  emotions,  a  recognition  of  and 
feeling  for  beauty,  and,  when  we  ourselves  have  been 
sharers  in  what  has  been  created,  a  sense  of  work  well 
done.  As  for  the  instruction  referred  to  by  Horace,  we 
can  interpret  it  to-day  as  the  same  kind  of  instruction  one 
gets  from  reading  hterature,  —  a  broader  understanding 
of  life  and  a  more  tolerant  attitude  toward  our  feUow-men. 

Some  comprehension  of  these  practical  values  of  pa- 
geantry the  pageant  director  will  labor  to  instil  into 
those  associated  with  him.  To  make  others  recognize 
the  true  character  of  his  work,  he  must  have  faith  in  it 
himself.  Unless  pageantry  can  be  firmly  founded  upon 
an  appreciation  of  its  potential  possibihties  as  an  art,  it 
will  have  no  permanency  —  nor,  it  may  be  added,  any 
influence  upon  modern  life. 

Apart  from  giving  to  pageantry  a  compelling  interest 
in  its  aims  and  purposes,  is  the  special  problem  of  found- 
ing it  upon  certain  broad  technical  principles.  Pageantry, 
whether  presented  indoors  or  out,  is  a  distinct  branch  of 
the  drama,  having  its  own  technique  and  at  the  same 
time  sharing  many  of  the  limitations  pecuhar  to  drama 
in  general.  It  differs  radically  from  the  theatre,  however, 
in  almost  every  respect-  Its  actors  are  amateurs;  in  its 
\    structural  aspects  it  is  narrative  rather  than  dramatic; 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA       13 

anj  thp  .scalft  anri  swppp  nf  it.s  mov^^^^Tit.  are  large.    Like 
drama,  on  the  other  hand,  the  story  is  told  in  terms  of 
dialogue  and_action  and  is  interprptpd  Ky  arinrs      Thfi__ 
kind  of  story  is  different,  but  the  method  of  telling  is 

much   thft  SffTUfi- 

The  story  of  a  pageant^  is,  generally,  the  life  of  a 
community  told  in  a  series  of  chronologically  arranged 
episodes.  Each  episode  is  complete  in  itself,  and  hence 
these  differ  from  the  acts  of  a  play,  which  are  in  a  causally 
connected  sequence.  The  unity  of  a  pageant  is  like  the 
unity  of  a  narrative;  it  is  the  purpose  and  total  impres- 
sion which  give  it  its  unity.  Again,  the  telling  of  the  story 
is  done  chiefly  through  an  appeal  to  the  eye,  rather  than 
to  the  ear.  The  spectacle  is  of  vastly  more  importance 
than  the  dialogue. 

It  follows  from  this  fact  that  ajjageaiitjmisL-be  specially 
written  for  the  conditions  jmder^hich  it  is  to  be  produced. 
In  outdoor  pageantry  no  two  stages  are  alike,  either  in 
dimensions  or  in  such  matters  as  shape  and  character 
of  the  background.  The  author  and  producer  must  make 
a  sf>ecial  study  not  only  of  outdoor  stages  in  general, 
but  of  the  particular  stage  to  be  used.  The  scale  of  the 
production  and  its  pictorial  effect  are  absolutely  con- 
ditioned by  the  setting  in  which  it  is  given.  On  the  other 
hand,  without  some  study  of  the  past  —  particularly  of 
the  kind  of  dramatic  representations  once  associated  with 
the  open  air  —  the  fundamentals  of  the  problem  may  be 
easily  overlooked. 

'  For  special  forms  of  pageantry  and  community  drama,  see  Chap.  II.  on 
Typeii. 


14         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

/  The  study  of  the  past  is  undertaken  for  the  purpose 
not  of  imitating  the  dramatic  forms  of  another  age,  but 
to  leam  what  tradition  has  preserved  as  a  foundation  for 
further  development.  Therefore,  when  the  outdoor  dram- 
atist turns  to  a  consideration  of  the  Greek  festival,  he 
asks  himself  what  significance,  if  any,  this  would  have 
to-day.  It  is  clear  at  once  that  the  modern  process  must 
be  a  question  of  adaptation.  To  reproduce,  as  well  as 
may  be,  an  actual  Greek  festival  would  have  no  value 
other  than  that  of  a  theatrical  scene.  The  performers 
might  be  skilful,  the  spectacle  beautiful,  and  yet  the 
whole  would  be  at  best  only  a  dramatic  curiosity.  On 
the  other  hand,  suppose  that  a  dramatist  has  come  into 
a  community  where  a  spring  festival  is  still  vaguely 
conunemorated  in  some  popular  ceremonies  or  merry- 
making. Here  is  material  on  which  to  build,  and  here 
the  past  will  come  most  potently  to  his  aid.  The  fact 
that  other  lands  and  other  peoples  have  likewise  made 
festival  at  this  season  would  give  greater  meaning  to  a 
present  celebration.  The  pageant  worker  might  trace  the 
course  of  the  spring  festival  through  the  centuries,  begin- 
ning with  ancient  Greece,  and  thus  make  the  whole  perspec- 
tive of  its  tradition  hve  again  in  the  minds  of  its  audience. 
In  the  same  way,  the  religious  plays  and  mediaeval 
triumphs  are  sources  of  inspiration  rather  than  models 
to  copy.  When  it  is  discovered,  for  example,  that  the 
b^t  local  artists  in  France  labored- iormonths^  on -the 
accessories  and  costumes  for  the  miracle  plays,  and  that 
the_  preparation  of  these  spectacles  occupied  the  best 
efforts  of  hundreds  of  people,  it  is  natural  to  ask  if  an 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PAGEANTRY  AND  DRAMA       15 

art  which  o^^"'  «^  mgi^y  ^^lani^^lt^  of  expression  to  a 
community  is  not  worth  recalling.  It  will  not  be  recalled 
in  the  form  of  miracle  plays  of  com'se, — for  the  thought 
of  which  it  is  the  expression  must  be  modem,  —  but 
rather  in  forms  which  will  emphasize  the  spirit  of  joyous 
cooperation  for  the  benefit  of  all.  New  forms  must  be 
found  for  this  spirit  to  bring  forth,  but  if  the  beHef  is 
once  estabhshed  that  art  is  a  vital  factor  in  the  joy  of 
living,  the  forms  will  come  imsought. 

It  is  not  only  as  a  preserver  of  the  rich  traditions  of  the 
past,  in  which  function  pageantry  has  aU  the  educative 
and  social  value  it  needs,  but  it  is  also  a  means  whereby 
it.  may  once  more  be  learned  that  art  brings  pleasure  into 
Itfe  exactly  in  proportion  as  the  people  are  sharers  in  the 
processes  of  its  creation.  Athletic  games  are  almost  the 
only  recreation  left  in  which  great  numbers  of  people 
actually  join.  In  all  other  cases,  professionals  are  paid 
to  furnish  amusement.  At  the  theatre,  in  the  concert 
hall,  even  in  the  museum,  what  is  seen,  or  heard,  is  the 
work  of  specialists;  the  majority  know  nothing  from 
actual  experience  of  what  they  see  and  hear.  It  is  this 
ignorance  which  has  led  a  few  artists  to  despise  their 
pubhc  as  incapable  of  properly  understanding  art.  It  is 
true  that  most  of  the  arts  demand  knowledge  and  skill 
in  techniques  long  and  difficult  to  acquire,  hence  beyond 
the  reach  of  a  busy  industrial  population.  There  are 
few  who  can  obtain  the  leisure  necessary  to  learn  some- 
thing of  the  creative  side  of  painting,  or  sculpture,  or 
even  of  music.  But,  fortunately,  this  need  not  be  true 
of  pageantry.     Its  whole  point  hes  in  the  fact  that  it  is 


16         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

not,  and  cannot  be,  the  work  of  a  single  individual.  It 
is  a  cooperative  art  in  which  there  is  opportunity  for  all 
to  share  according  to  the  measure  of  their  time  and  skill. 
Pageantry  will  not  make  artists  of  the  many;  no  such 
extravagant  claim  as  that  is  made  for  it  here.  The  days 
when  nearly  every  handicraftsman  was  at  heart  an  artist 
and  made  even  his  common  tools  things  of  beauty  have 
probably  gone  forever.  The  hands  of  a  clock  move  only 
in  one  direction.  But  the  writers  of  this  book  do  beheve 
that  pageantry  offers  one  means  of  developing  a  finer 
appreciation  of  art  among  our  industrial  democracy  by 
showing  the  latter  that  they  too  can  partake  of  some  of 
art's  mysteries.  Further,  pageantry  is  a  rational  and 
joyous  form  of  recreation^  a  sane  outlet  for  the  uncon- 
querable play-spirit  which,  when  lacking  outlets,  may 
become  a  source  of  danger  instead  of  a  benefit.  It  is  of 
pageantry  and  community  drama  as  amateur  arts,  parallel 
but  not  competing  with  the  theatre,  that  the  authors  of 
this  book  wish  to  treat.  The  succeeding  chapters  venture 
to  present  a  few  theoretical  and  practical  suggestions 
concerning  methods  of  approach.  The  field  is  still  com- 
paratively untrodden  and  present-day  experiments  have 
been  relatively  few,  —  facts  which  account  for  the  tenta- 
tive nature  of  much  of  the  advice  in  the  following  pages. 
Yet  it  is  particularly  true  of  community  drama  and  pa- 
geantry that  one  learns  by  doing.  All  that  the  writers 
have  attempted  is  to  show  some  of  the  theories  which 
have  guided  them  in  their  own  experiments,  in  the  hope 
that  others  will  carry  on  these  experiments  to  their  proper 
fruition  in  a  democratic  and  national  drama. 


Chapter  II 

TYPES  OF  COMMUNITY  DRAMA   AND 
PAGEANTRY 

"  The  perfect  arl-work,  the  great  united  utterance  of  a  free  and  lovely  public 
life,  —  the  Drama,  —  is  not  yet  born  again:  for  reason  that  it  cannot  be  re- 
born, but  must  be  born  anew"  —  Richard  Wagner. 

THE  modem  revival  of  pageantry  was  undertaken  as 
a  conscious  and  deliberate  attempt  to  create  a 
community  art.  It  was  never  intended  to  link  pageantry 
with  the  theatre  or  to  make  it  in  any  sense  a  competitor 
of  the  latter.  When  Mr.  Louis  N.  Parker  produced  at 
Sherboume  in  igoS  the  first  of  the  modem  pageants,  his 
spectacle  differed  from  all  of  the  historical  precedents 
which  prompted  his  idea.  And  not  only  was  the  spectacle 
different  in  forai  from  the  processional  pageants  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  but  it  was  conceived  for  a  different  purpose. 
Mr.  Parker's  object  was  to  stimulate  civic  pride  and 
patriotism  by  making  vivid  through  dramatic  representa- 
tion certain  events  in  the  history  of  a  particular  commun- 
ity. It  was  of  the  essence  of  this  plan  that  as  many 
people  as  possible  should  assist  in  the  creation  and  pro- 
duction of  the  pageant.  All  were  to  unite  in  celebrating 
not  the  fame  of  an  individual  but  the  past  history  of  their 
own  community. 


18         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Historical  pageantry,  as  conceived  by  Mr.  Parker,  had 
a  considerable  vogue  in  England,  Pageants  were  given 
on  an  ever-increasing  scale  of  costliness  until  the  whole 
fabric  of  the  idea  threatened  to  collapse  of  its  own  weight. 
The  hmitations  of  a  single  type  were  soon  reached.  Apart 
from  the  cost  of  giving  several  spectacles  each  year  in- 
volving thousands  of  performers,  the  historical  pageant 
itself  had  a  tendency  to  become  monotonous  to  audi- 
ences. There  was  a  similarity  common  to  all  episodic 
representation  of  history  that  made  variety,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  novelty,  almost  an  impossibility.  Pageantry  limited 
to  a  single  type  soon  threatened  to  exhaust  itself. 

Fortunately,  however,  the  conception  of  a  conmiunity 
drama,  written  and  produced  by  the  people  of  a  town  or 
countryside,  was  more  vital  than  the  particular  form  in 
which  this  idea  had  first  manifested  itself.  It  was  dis- 
covered that  pageantry  need  not  be  on  a  large  scale, 
that  its  subject-matter  need  not  necessarily  be  limited  to 
a  series  of  historical  episodes,  but  that  it  had  unlimited 
possibilities  of  variation  and  development.  Its  essential 
basis  is  its  amateur  and  cooperative  nature.  As  long  as 
it  fulfils  these  conditions,  it  may  develop  either  as  a 
local  drama  within  a  municipally  owned  theatre,  or  as 
a  method  of  celebrating  recurring  festivals  and  hoHdays. 
It  is  with  this  in  mind  that  certain  types  of  pageantry 
wiQ  be  described  and  discussed  in  this  chapter.  It  is 
necessary  to  note,  however,  that  the  types  here  listed  are 
not  looked  upon  as  standardized  forms  from  which  there 
can  be  no  deviation,  nor  does  this  enmneration  seek  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  new  and  unforseen  variants. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  19 

The  historical  pageant  is  composed  of  dramatic  or 
epic  (narrative)  episodes  chosen  from  the  events  of  history 
and  prepared  for  representation  either  in  dialogue  and 
action,  or  by  pantomime;  the  whole  arranged  in  chrono- 
logical order.  It  may  have  either  a  national  or  local 
appeal,  or  a  combination  of  both.  A  pageant  of  America, 
for  example,  given  at  Washington,  would  attract  people 
from  all  over  the  United  States,  whereas  pageants  based 
upon  the  intimate  histories  of  small  communities  would 
interest  a  more  limited  audience.  It  often  happens,  how- 
ever, that  many  small  town  pageants  may  contain  epi- 
sodes of  national  rather  than  of  purely  local  importance. 
This  would  be  true  of  Concord,  Massachusetts,  and  was 
equally  true  in  the  case  of  many  English  pageants.  The 
recent  development  of  historical  pageantry  in  this  country 
shows,  furthermore,  a  tendency  to  divergence  between 
the  English  and  the  American  type.  The  English  adheres 
more  closely  to  Mr.  Parker's  Sherboume  model  —  i.e.  a 
chronological  series  of  episodes.  The  American,  on  the 
other  hand,  makes  freer  use  of  allegorical  interludes  for 
the  purpose  of  supplying  a  unifying  thread  to  the  other- 
wise unrelated  historical  scenes.  A  brief  description  of  a 
few  typical  examples  will  serve  to  make  clear  these  varia- 
tions. 

The  historical  pageant  of  a  town  or  nation  (English,  or 
Louis  N.  Parker  type)  is  composed  of  a  series  of  episodes 
in  chronological  order,  without  the  addition  of  any  sym- 
bolical interludes  or  allegorical  scenes.  There  is  usually 
little  or  no  attempt  to  add  didactic  elements  to  these 
pageants;    instead  the  episodes  simply  unroll  before  the 


20         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

eyes  of  the  spectators,  and  the  latter  are  rightly  left  to 
absorb  for  themselves  the  lessons  of  beauty  and  patriot- 
ism. Quite  frequently  these  pageants  begin  with  a  choral 
prologue  and  conclude  with  a  hynm  to  the  town,  or  with 
the  singing  of  the  national  anthem,  but,  outside  of  such 
lyric  passages,  the  subject-matter  is  limited  to  the  inci- 
dents of  local  history. 

The  St.  Albans  pageant  *  may  be  taken  as  a  character- 
istic example.  There  were  eight  episodes,  beginning  with 
Julius  Caesar's  capture  of  Verulamium  ^  in  54  b.c,  and 
ending  with  Queen  Elizabeth's  visit  in  1672.  The  con- 
necting links  between  the  historical  scenes  were  supphed 
by  a  narrative  chorus  garbed  as  monks,  who  chanted 
during  the  intervals  but  took  no  part  in  the  action.  The 
apotheosis  of  St.  Albans  was  the  final  scene,  during  which 
all  the  performers  appeared  in  a  processional.  The  Ox- 
ford pageant,^  which  was  on  a  larger  and  more  imposing 
scale,  marked  the  highest  achievement  in  artistic  pageantry 
in  England.  There  were  fifteen  episodes,  from  the  Legend 
of  St.  Frideswide,  circa  727,  to  St.  Giles'  Fair,  circa  1785. 
The  sequence  of  historic  scenes  was  relieved  near  the  middle 
^^Jthe  performance  by  the  introduction  of  the  Masque  of 
^^  the  Mediaeval  Curriculmn,  which  served  as  an  interlude  be- 
^Kfe^rluAe^   tween  the  mediaeval  and  the  Renaissance  episodes. 

The  purely  historical  pageant  *  is  more  effective  in  Eng- 

*  July,  1907.     St.  Albans,  Hertfordshire.     The  book  was  by  Charles  H. 
Ashdown. 

*  The  name  of  the  Roman  town  whose  site  adjoined  St.  Albans. 

*  June,  1907. 

*  For  the  origin  of  patriotic  "mysteries"  and  pageants,  see  Chap.   Ill 
of  G.  Bapst's  Essai  sur  Fhigtoire  du  thSdlre.    These  early  pagesmt-mysteries 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  21 

land  than  it  is  in  America,  because  English  history  covers 
so  wide  a  space  of  time  that  variety  in  the  subject-matter 
and  in  the  costuming  of  the  episodes  is  easily  attained. 
Furthermore,  the  English  pubhc  contains  far  less  of  a 
foreign  element,  with  the  result  that  there  is  not  the  same 
need  for  an  allegorical  or  interpretive  treatment  of  history. 
The  audience  as  a  whole  understand  their  past  and  the 
part  their  town  has  played  in  the  life  of  the  nation  better 
than  do  American  spectators,  many  of  whom  are  new- 
comers to  their  community.  It  is  not  surprising,  there- 
fore, that  in  the  technique  of  pageant  structure  the  two 
countries  have  progressed  on  somewhat  different  lines. 

Furthermore,  the  material  available  in  this  country 
differs  in  that  an  important  element  in  the  history  of /y  c=  lU- 
America  is  the  conquest  of  the  wilderness.  This  conflict 
of  man  with  nature  cannot  easily  be  shown  save  by  means 
^_allegory.  The  solitary  pioneer  pushing  on  into  the 
forests,  or  cutting  logs  for  his  cabin,  does  not  offer  a  sub- 
ject of  which  the  pageant  stage  can  make  hteral  use.  His 
labors  and  struggles  must  be  represented  in  some  abstract 
way.  The  things  with  which  he  contends  must  be  per- 
sonified and  so  made  visible  and  dramatic  to  the  audience. 

JThe  introduction  of  a  free  use  of  allegorical  interludes  V 
has  broadened  the  scope  of  American  pageantry  and  saved 
it  from  the  monotony  of  form  which  overtook  this  art  in 
England.  Moreover,  the  interlude  has  shown  the  way 
towM;d  the  development  of  other  types  less  strictly  re- 

celebratod  the  deliverance  of  a  city  from  a  siege,  as  in  "Le  mystiire  du 
si^e  d'Orlfians"  —  tiie  first  one  recorded. 

'  For  more  specific  descriptions  of  the  interlude,  see  Chap.  Ill  on 
Writing  the  Pageant  Book. 


22         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

lated  tx)  the  historical.  In  general,  it  may  be  said  of  the 
interlude  that  it  adds  dramatic  as  weU  as  spectacular 
elements  to  a  pageant,  whilst  also  ^^rajogportumties 
_ffn;_Ygriatiinnfl  in  th^  stn^^t^^r^l  form, — 

Another  source  of  excellent  material  for  American 
pageantry  is  found  in  the  numerous  myths  and  legends 
of  the  Indians.  The  Indian  has  not  yet  come  into  his 
own  in  our  pageants.  Too  often  he  is  relegated  to  an 
opening  episode  in  which  white  settlers  bargain  with  him 
for  land.  But  it  is  possible  to  write  whole  pageants  around 
the  Indians,  or  at  least  to  relieve  the  historical  scenes  by 
the  introduction  of  a  dramatized  Indian  legend.  Through 
a  wider  use  of  our  available  Indian  folk-lore  the  American 
pageant  would  gain  in  variety  of  incident. 

As  has  been  said,  the  distinction  between  the  historical 
pageant  in  England  and  in  America  consists  principally 
in  the  fact  that  in  this  country  interludes  are  added  to 
the  historical  episodes.  The  Pageant  of  the  Mohawk 
Trail  ^  illustrates  this  difference.  The  pageant  began 
with  an  introduction  entitled  "The  Waters  Recede." 
This  was  a  purely  symboHc  representation  of  certain 
nature  forces.  Between  the  seventh  and  eighth  episodes 
in  the  first  part  there  was  another  interlude,  "The  Protest 
of  the  Pines,"  a  dramatization  of  the  forest's  complaint 
against  man's  encroachment.  In  the  third  part  there  was 
a  different  type  of  interlude,  "The  Spirit  of  Industry," 
personifications  of  man's  varied  occupations,  and,  last  of 
all,  "The  Mohawk  Trail  of  the  Present  and  Future." 
This  use  of  the  vision  of  the  future  is  another   character- 

*  By  Miss  MMgaret  Maclaren  Eager.    North  Adams,  Mass.,  June,  1914. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  23 

istic  common  to  many  American  pageants.  The  vision  is 
generally  an  elaborate  allegory,  since  it  is  also  the  finale 
in  which  all  the  characters  of  the  preceding  episodes  are 
present.  Occasionally  the  first  scene,  instead  of  being 
an  allegory,  will  be  laid  in  England  and  will  show  the 
settlers  about  to  start  on  the  voyage  to  America. 

The  authors'  Pageant  of  ElizabeOi  ^  contained  interludes 
of  several  types.  The  prologue  showed  "The  Red  Man's 
Vision  of  the  Land."  Indians  were  seen  going  about  their 
tasks  of  hunting,  fishing,  and  making  camp.  Then  there 
came  a  dance  of  spirits  of  the  inland  waters.  Finally, 
there  passed  before  the  Indians  the  spirits  of  field  and 
forest.  The  purpose  was  to  show  the  Indian  dwelling 
among  these  nature  spirits  but  unable  to  control  them  or 
to  make  them  serve  him  save  in  elementary  ways.  After 
two  or  three  succeeding  historical  episodes,  "The  Vision 
of  the  Early  Settlers"  followed.  Here  the  pioneers  re- 
ceived their  first  glimpse  of  the  possibilities  of  the  land  to 
which  they  had  come,  —  there  was  even  visible  to  them 
a  vague  and  shadowy  outhne,  very  dim  as  yet,  of  the 
city  that  was  to  be.  The  next  interlude  was  introduced, 
in  the  form  of  a  dream,  into  a  historical  episode  dealing 
with  the  founding  of  the  College  of  New  Jersey.  This 
method  of  combining  history  and  allegory  is  not  often 
followed  and  is  not,  in  fact,  recommended  by  many 
pageant  workers.  In  this  case  the  episode  happened  to 
lend  itself  to  such  treatment.  After  the  Revolutionary 
period  there  was  a  patriotic  interlude  of  "The  New  Free- 
dom," and  the  pageant  ended  with  a  symbohcal  "Vision 

'  Given  at  EULzabeth,  New  Jersey,  Oct.  iQi4> 


24         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

of  the  Elizabeth  of  the  Future."  Three  or  four  historical 
episodes  were  usually  presented  between  each  two  inter- 
ludes. 

/  The  interlude  not  only  gives  variety  to  the  pageant 
CAr  ()  f  and  scope  to  the  writer's  imagination,  but  it  allows  the 
attention  of  the  audience  to  relax.  It  is  particularly  true 
of  dramatic  representations,  whether  these  be  in  a  theatre 
or  on  a  pageant  stage,  that  the  spectators  cannot  be  kept 
keenly  attentive  all  the  time.  Historical  episodes  demand 
a  close  attention  on  the  part  of  an  audience.  Many  of 
these  episodes  are  not  strikingly  dramatic,  and  a  long  suc- 
cession of  them  without  variety  or  interruption  proves 
tiresome.  The  interlude,  with  its  lavish  use  of  music, 
dance,  and  color,  affords  just  the  needed  relaxation  for 
the  spectators'  minds.  _ 

The  most  spectacular  of  the  American  pageants,  as 
well  as  the  largest  and  most  artistic,  was  that  of  St. 
Louis. ^  The  performance  was  divided  into  two  parts:  a 
pageant  of  three  historical  episodes,  covering  the  actual 
founding  of  the  city,  followed  by  a  masgue.  The  spectacle 
was  elaborate  and  required  an  unusually  large  number 
of  performers.  Consequently  the  text  was  intended  to  be 
read  rather  than  heard.  The  almost  equal  division  be- 
tween the  pageant  and  the  masque  marked  another  experi- 
ment  characteristic  of  the  freedom  of  American  pageant 
lypes.  The  masque,  in  this  instance,  was  not  a  mere 
interlude  in  the  pageant:  it  equalled  the  pageant  in  im- 
jQQllance. 

*  Given  at  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  May,  1914.    The  pageant  by  Henry  Wood 
Stevens;   the  masque  by  Percy  MacKaye. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  25 

The  next  type  to  be  considered  is  the  pageant  based 
upon  the  history  of  an  institution.^  The  institutions  that 
have  helped  to  make  a  nation  great  offer  as  satisfactory 
material  for  pageantry  as  do  its  towns  and  cities.  The 
growth  and  development  of  the  English  Church,  for  ex- 
ample, or  of  the  army  or  navy,  lend  themselves  to  treat- 
ment in  pageant  form.  As  the  appeal  of  these  pageants 
is  national  rather  than  local,  they  are  more  appropriate 
for  production  in  the  larger  cities.  Thus,  in  the  English 
Church  Pageant,  parishes  and  dioceses  from  all  over 
England  sent  representatives  to  act  in  the  various  scenes. 
This  is,  in  general,  an  ideal  way  to  obtain  actors  for 
pageants  of  national  appeal. 

In  its  structural  aspects  the  institutional  pageant  is 
similar  to  the  historical  type.  For  example,  the  English 
Church  Pageant  was  composed  of  a  series  of  episodes  in 
the  history  of  the  Church,  including  such  splendidly 
dramatic  scenes  as  the  coronation  of  William  the  Con- 
queror and  the  murder  of  Thomas  k  Becket  in  Canterbury 
Cathedral.  A  faithful  reproduction  of  the  performance 
of  a  miracle  play  upon  a  wheeled  platform  stage  (or  "pa- 
geant" in  the  mediaeval  sense  of  the  word)  was  another 
feature.    Again,  in  the  English  Army  Pageant  the  episodes 

'  An  interesting  early  type  midway  between  a  miracle  play  and  an  alle- 
gorical pageant  was  Mathieu  Malingrc's  La  Chreslienle  nialade,  performed 
at  Rochellc  in  i55o.  The  characters  and  their  costumes  are  worth  noting: 
Faith  wore  white;  Hope,  violet;  Charity,  scarlet.  Good  works  was  a  well- 
to-do  merchant;  Christianity,  a  lady  of  wealth;  the  Blind  Man  and  the 
Varlet  "en  haillons"  like  beggars;  Hypocrisy  us  a  nun;  Sin  in  a  double 
costume,  in  front  resembling  a  noble  woman,  and  behind  resembling  a  devil. 
The  Doctor  and  the  Apothecary  wore  the  contemporary  dress  of  their  pro- 
fession, while  Inspiration  appeared  as  an  Angel  with  wings. 


26         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

presented  not  only  famous  battles  but  also  scenes  which 
illustrated  the  evolution  of  weapons  and  of  tactics. 

Other  forms  9f  institutional  pageants  are  those  portray- 
ing the  histories  of  schools  or  colleges.  These  are  not 
community  aiFairs,  yet  they  may  have  value  and  interest 
to  the  community  to  which  the  institution  belongs.  They 
are  not,  therefore,  to  be  barred  from  the  democracy  of 
pageantry.  One  of  the  earhest  of  these  pageants  in 
America  was  in  the  form  of  scenes  from  the  history  of 
Yale  College,^  shown  at  the  time  of  the  Bicentennial  of 
Yale  in  igoi.  This  performance  anticipated  many  of  a 
similar  natiue  which  have  since  been  given  elsewhere  — 
in  fact,  the  bicentennial  pageant  of  Yale  was  four  years 
in  advance  of  Mr.  Parker's  pageant  at  Sherboume.  The 
possibihties  of  school  and  college  pageants  offer  one  of 
the  most  fruitful  fields  for  the  development  of  the  art  in 
America.^ 

The  historical  pageant  of  ideas  is  sufficiently  distinct 
from  the  institutional  pageant  both  in  subject-matter 
and  in  treatment  to  require  a  separate  classification.  The 
widest  range  of  topics  may  be  drawn  upon  for  these  pa- 
geants. Education,  Science,  the  Renaissance,  if  their  con- 
tributions to  the  progress  of  thought  are  expressed  in 
dramatic  form,  are  appropriate  themes.  The  main  object 
in  the  treatment  of  any  such  theme  is  to  show  the  his- 
torical evolution  of  the  idea.     Almost  of  necessity  this 

^  Written  and  devised  by  Professor  E.  B.  Reed  of  Yale.  Pageants  have 
been  given  at  several  colleges  since  this  time,  notably  at  Holyoke  and  at 
Vaissar.    The  latter  two  were  among  the  most  artistic  of  American  pagettnts. 

*  Yale  is  to  repeat  the  experiment  by  giving  a  great  pageant  in  the  Bowl 
in  October,  1916. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGK\NTRY  27 

evolution  is  developed  in  the  form  of  an  allegory,  since 
these  abstract  ideas  cannot  be  dramatized  miless  they 
are  first  personified.  Specific  episodes,  however,  may  be 
realistically  treated,  by  showing  how  the  idea  affects  the 
life  of  man  in  given  centm^ies.  But  it  is  necessary  first 
to  base  the  whole  structure  upon  a  clear  and  consistent 
allegory  of  which  the  realistic  episodes  are  pictorial  com- 
mentaries or  explanations.  Naturally,  the  artistic  success 
of  this  type  depends  upon  the  poetic  imagination  of  its 
creator.  Nothing  is  more  dull  or  dreary  than  a  thin  and 
uninspired  allegory  dragged  out  over  two  hours.  Such  a 
pageant  is  the  most  difficult  of  all  to  create,  for  it  really 
demands  a  poet.  If  it  is  presented  in  a  trite  and  unimagi- 
native way  it  will  not  stir  the  emotions  or  minds  of  its 
spectators. 

Among  the  various  forms  which  pageantry  can  take, 
festivals  and  the  celebrations  of  special  occasions  by 
pageant-hke  ceremonies  must  not  be  overlooked.  These 
festivals  and  ceremonies  were,  of  course,  characteristic  of 
mediaeval  life,  and  in  reviving  them  pageant  workers  are 
carrying  on  a  tradition  which  has  never  been  wholly  in- 
terrupted. May  Day,  Harvest  Home,  Halloween,  and 
Christmas  have  all  managed  to  retain  some  of  their  popu- 
lar ceremonial  and  festival  spirit.  The  modern  patriotic 
hoHdays,  such  as  Washington's  Birthday,  the  Fourth  of 
July,  Labor  Day,  and  the  Puritan  Thanksgiving  are  oppor- 
tunities for  the  creation  of  an  American  festival  tradition. 

A  brief  description  of  one  or  two  of  the  mediaeval  and 
Renaissance  festivals  may  be  of  help  in  suggesting  ideas 
for  modem  celebrations.    In  Portugal  there  was  an  elabo- 


28         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

rate  form  of  processional  pageant  known  as  the  ''ballet 
ambulatoire.''  During  the  celebration  of  the  canoniza- 
tion of  Cardinal  Borromee  at  Lisbon  the  pageant  was 
devised  on  a  magnificent  scale.  First  of  all  a  richly 
decorated  ship  with  multi-colored  sails  and  silken  cordage 
entered  the  harbor.  On  its  deck  was  a  pavihon  of  cloth 
of  gold  enshrining  the  figure  of  the  new  saint.  Upon  the 
approach  to  the  roadstead  this  ship  was  met  and  escorted 
into  the  harbor  by  all  the  vessels  in  the  port.  Salutes 
were  exchanged  and  the  guns  of  the  forts  were  fired.  At 
the  quay-side  the  ship  was  welcomed  by  all  the  grandees 
of  the  State  accompanied  by  the  rehgious,  civil,  and  mih- 
tary  orders.  The  figure  of  the  saint  was  disembarked 
with  solemn  pomp  and  the  march  through  the  city  began. 
Four  magnificent  floats  representing  respectively  the 
Palace  of  Fame,  the  City  of  Milan,  Portugal,  and  the 
Church  were  the  chief  items  of  the  parade.  About  these 
floats  were  groups  of  mimes  and  dancers,  who  acted,  with 
a  musical  accompaniment,  the  principal  events  in  the  life 
of  the  saint.  From  every  house  were  hung  splendid 
tapestries,  and  arches  of  flowers  were  placed  at  intervals 
across  the  streets.  In  the  pubhc  squares  were  fixed  plat- 
forms upon  which  dancers  performed  while  the  procession 
halted.  The  pageant  ended  with  the  enshrining  of  the 
image  in  the  cathedral. 

The  combination  of  sea  and  land  pageantry  in  these 
ballets  ambulaioires  was  the  noteworthy  feature.  In  a 
measure  the  Hudson-Fulton  celebration  in  New  York  in 
1909  made  an  attempt  to  combine  naval  with  land  pa- 
geantry but  the  two  were  not  coordinated  by  any  definite 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  29 

and  consistently  carried  out  plan.  Much  more  could  be 
done  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunities  offered  by 
river  and  harbor  for  adding  new  elements  to  modern 
pageantry.^ 

Another  distinctive  type  of  festival  was  the  French 
Carrousel.  This,  as  its  name  imphes,  was  a  mounted 
spectacle  given  by  nobles,  officers,  and  men  of  cavalry 
regiments.  In  1612  a  great  carrousel  was  held  at  Paris 
in  the  Place  Royale  to  celebrate  the  wedding  of  the  young 
king  Louis  XIII.  It  lasted  for  three  days  and  the  prepa- 
ration was  on  an  enormous  scale.  The  most  elaborate  of 
all  was  the  Carrousel  of  1662  held  in  the  gardens  of  the 
Tuileries.  A  large  square  was  marked  out  and  enclosed 
with  a  double  barricade.  At  one  end  an  amphitheatre 
for  the  spectators  was  erected.  In  addition  to  horse  races 
and  a  series  of  contests  something  like  a  modern  gym- 
khana, the  performers  were  divided  into  sections  represent- 
ing different  nations.  The  King  marched  at  the  head  of 
the  first  group  or  ''quadrille.''  He  impersonated  a  neo- 
classic  Roman  emperor,  to  judge  from  the  quaint  design 
of  his  costume.  His  brother  and  his  followers  were  Per- 
sians, the  Prince  de  Conde  led  the  Turks,  the  Due 
d'Enghien  the  East  Indians,  while  it  is  interesting  to  note 
that  the  Due  de  Guise  and  his  escort  were  supposed  to 
be  American  "savages."  The  costumes  were  ornate,  but 
could  hardly  be  described  as  accurate.  Thus,  the  Due  de 
Guise,  in  his  habit  as  redskin  chieftain,  wore  upon  his  head 
a  literal  forest  of  ostrich  feathers  attached  to  a  species 

'  The  Cape  Cod  Pageant,  Auf^usl,  igi^t  did,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  make 
uae  of  the  sea  as  well  as  the  land. 


30         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

of  Grecian  helmet  about  which  was  coiled  a  gold  serpent. 
A  tight  fitting  tunic  ending  in  a  skirt  covered  with  gilt 
scales  completed  his  idea  of  an  American  Indian.  The 
mane  and  tail  of  his  horse  were  intertwined  with  a  great 
number  of  serpents.  The  effect  was  imposing,  if  nothing 
else. 

The  carrousel  had  a  plot  or  theme  usually  chosen  from 
classic  mythology,  and  episodes  based  upon  skill  in  horse- 
manship. In  one  sense  these  carrousels  were  revivals  of 
mediaeval  tournaments  and  some  of  the  older  traditions, 
such  as  jousting  and  the  awarding  of  prizes  by  a  queen  of 
the  tournament,  were  incorporated  with  them. 

Similar  to  the  carrousel  was  the  cavalcade.  This  was  a 
processional  pageant  in  which  the  majority  of  the  par- 
ticipants were  on  horseback.  They  were  a  feature  of  the 
carnival  both  in  France  and  Italy.  French  Flanders 
developed  a  special  type  of  cavalcade  ^  for  certain  annual 
occasions  such  as  the  Festival  of  the  Giant  at  Douai  and 
the  Festival  of  the  Incas  at  Valenciennes.  As  far  as  the 
authors  are  aware  there  has  been  no  attempt  made  by 
modem  pageantry  to  revive  these  mounted  spectacles,^ 
but  should  there  occur  a  favorable  opportunity  to  adapt 
such  a  spectacle  to  present-day  conditions  the  experiment 
would  be  worth  making. 

^  These  cavalcades  were  a  psul  of  the  "ducasse"  a  local  eumual  festival 
which  lasted  for  several  days.  The  principal  ducasses  were  those  of  Lille, 
Douai,  Valenciennes,  Cambrai,  and  Conde.  Originally  they  were  religious, 
usually  being  associated  with  the  local  patron  saint.  After  the  revolution, 
however,  the  religious  element  almost  entirely  disappeared. 

*  Of  course  horses  and  cavalry  are  used  in  historic  pageantry,  but  only 
because  they  are  incidental  to  the  episodes. 


A  Fkikzk 
{The  Magic  of  Ifie  Hills - 


Dartmouth) 


CiHoriMNfi  AM>  Mi»m:mi;m-  ('.<>miiim:i> 
(Sylrin  Deriiivs  —  Diirliiioulli) 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  31 

These  historic  types  have  been  cited  because  they  sug- 
gest ways  in  which  mcxiem  festivals  can  be  still  further 
developed.  To  turn,  now,  to  suggestions  for  the  celebra- 
tion of  our  patriotic  hoHdays  by  meeuis  of  pageantry,  the 
pageant  worker  is  confronted  with  the  necessity  of  creating 
a  popular  tradition.  In  the  case  of  Independence  Day, 
for  example,  about  the  only  ceremonial  traditions  associ- 
ated with  it  are  noise,  fireworks,  perhaps  the  reading  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  a  few  speeches  by 
local  celebrities.  What  is  needed  is  a  definite  ceremonial 
tradition  which  will  become  associated  in  the  popular 
mind  with  the  Fourth  of  July  and  thus  emphasize  the 
meaning  of  the  day.  This  matter  has  been  thoroughly 
and  adequately  treated  by  Mr.  WiUiam  Chauncey  Lang- 
don  in»a  pamphlet  entitled  The  Celebration  of  the  Fourth 
of  July  by  Means  of  Pageantry.^  Mr.  Langdon  points 
out  that  a  single  episode  deahng  with  the  particular  event 
for  which  the  day  is  noteworthy  may  form  the  key-stone 
of  the  celebration.  Thus,  for  the  Fourth  of  July,  a  suit- 
able episode  would  be  a  dramatic  scene  representing  the 
signing  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  It  is,  of 
course,  appropriate  to  commemorate  this  or  any  other 
hohday  by  a  general  pageant,  but  in  such  a  case  the 
structure  of  the  pageant  would  keep  clearly  in  view  the 
special  significance  of  the  day.  Mr.  Langdon  suggests 
that  one  way  to  mark  the  difi'erence  in  structure  between 
a  historical  pageant  and  one  designed  to  commemorate  a 
particular  day  is  to  emphasize  the  lyric  quality  of  the 
latter.     Music  and  dance  are  more  characteristic  of  the 

'  See  bibliography.      P'or  further  details  cx)nsult  Mr.  Langdon's  pamphlet. 


32         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

festival  spirit  than  is  the  more  rigid  structure  of  dramatic 
episodes. 

Each  of  the  patriotic  hohdays  has  its  own  problem, 
which  needs  to  be  studied  separately.  For  example,  Lin- 
coln's Birthday,  or  Washington's,  could  be  treated  either 
through  pageantry  designed  to  recall  the  great  events  of 
these  men's  careers,  or  the  events  could  be  generalized  in 
terms  of  the  national  crises  from  which  they  delivered 
their  country.  Of  course  in  most  of  the  states  these  holi- 
days would  have  to  be  celebrated  indoors  because  of  the 
season  of  the  year.  But  there  still  remains  Labor  Day, 
which  comes  when  the  weather  is  at  its  best  for  outdoor 
pageantry.  Little  has  as  yet  been  done  with  this  hoHday 
except  to  organize  parades  of  workers.  Curiously  enough 
there  seldom  seems  to  be  any  coherent  plan  governing  the 
relation  of  the  units  of  these  parades  to  each  other.  Each 
group  chooses  its  own  float  and  its  own  uniform  without 
regard  to  the  selections  made  by  the  others.  Conse- 
quently these  parades  have  no  purpose  and  no  meaning. 
Such  impression  as  they  make  is  achieved  mainly  through 
the  numbers  of  the  participants. 

Without  presuming  to  advance  any  precise  plan  for  a 
Labor  Day  ceremonial,  it  is  possible  to  make  a  few  sug- 
gestions which  would  give  the  hohday  more  meaning  than 
it  has  at  present.  Each  trade  might  design  floats  to  show 
the  evolution  of  the  separate  industries  from  the  begin- 
nings to  the  present  day.  Metal  workers  could  portray 
primitive  man  working  at  his  crude  forge;  then  the 
mediaeval  craftsmen  with  their  apprentices;  and  so  on 
to  the  wonders  of  modem  lathes  and  machine  took.     Or 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  33 

again,  fire  as  the  servant  of  the  toiler  might  be  the  theme 
of  another  parade.  The  history  of  organized  labor  itself, 
from  the  days  of  John  Ball  and  the  peasant  rebeUions  to 
modem  democracy  trimnphant,  would  fmnish  material 
for  a  splendid  pageant.  There  is  no  lack  of  subject-matter 
nor  is  the  cost  of  pageant  parades  necessarily  heavy.  The 
expense  need  be  no  greater  than  is  spent  upon  the  form- 
less processions  of  the  present.  All  that  is  required  is  a 
plan  in  which  aU  will  agree  to  cooperate. 

Definite  steps  have  already  been  taken  in  many  cities 
to  make  Christmas  Day  more  of  a  community  celebration. 
In  New  York  a  municipal  tree  has  been  set  up  in  Madison 
Square  and  a  choir  has  led  the  assembled  crowd  in  singing 
carols  and  hymns.  Last  year  (191 5)  Mr.  Stuart  Walker's 
Portmanteau  Theatre  was  added  and  performances  of 
little  plays  written  for  the  occasion  were  given.  St.  Paul, 
Minnesota,  is  another  city  which  has  appreciated  the  com- 
munity value  of  Christmas.  This  movement  seems  about 
to  gather  headway  and  soon  the  tradition  of  such  cele- 
brations ought  to  become  well  established. 

Among  the  days  which  have  no  patriotic  nor  rehgious 
significance,  yet  are  suitable  for  celebration  through 
pageantry.  May  Day  is  unquestionably  first.  Its  traditions 
are  an  epitome  of  some  of  the  most  cherished  customs 
of  English-speaking  peoples.  Likewise,  it  occurs  at  a  sea- 
son of  the  year  favorable  for  outdoor  festivals.  De- 
scended from  village  agricultural  festivals,  it  long  retained 
its  community  character.  Many  of  the  characteristic 
English  folk-dances  and  songs  are  associated  with  May 
Day  revels.    Although  of  late  it  has  fallen  into  the  hands 


34         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

of  children,  like  so  many  old  customs,  it  has  never  been 
entirely  forgotten.  Perhaps  the  latter  fact  is  due  to  the 
frequent  references  to  May  Day  in  EngKsh  Uterature. 
Because  of  its  associations  it  is  a  festival  pecuharly  appro- 
priate for  revival. 

/"The  method  of  its   celebration  might  be  a  spectacle 

/  centred    about    old    customs  —  such    as    village    games, 

^     I    folk-dances  and  songs.     These  could  be  woven  together 

I    by  a  shght  thread  of  story  related  to  the  day.     Or  the 

\   historical  features  might  include  a  reproduction  of  village 

revels  in  Elizabethan  England,  such  as  the  setting  up  of 

a  May  Pole  on  the  green  with  its  picturesque  and  ancient 

ceremonies.     There  is  plenty  of  material  in   May   Day 

customs  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting  historian,   even  if 

his  subject-matter  deals  with  folk-lore  and  tradition  rather 

than  with  historic  personages  and  events. 

Bryn  Mawr  College  has  for  a  long  time  celebrated  May 
Day  at  intervals  of  four  years  by  performing  an  Eliza- 
bethan masque  or  pastoral  in  the  open  air.  A  few  of  our 
other  schools  and  colleges  have  followed,  but  community 
celebrations,  except  for  children,  have  been  comparatively 
infrequent  in  this  country.^  The  Woman's  Park  Club  of 
Walla  Walla,  Washington,  gave  a  Pageant  of  May,^  written 
by  Professor  Garnett.  The  pageant  was  in  two  parts,  a 
Masque  of  Prosperpine  and  The  Revels  of  May.  The  former 
symbohcally  dealt  with  the  return  of  spring,  while  the 
second  part  was  based  upon  the  traditional  Enghsh  May 

*  Note,  however,  the  extensive  and  organized  May  Day  ceremonies  of 
the  public  school  children  of  New  York  in  Central  Peirk. 
'  May  22-23,  1914. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  35 

Day  celebrations.  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men  were 
included,  but  the  morris  dance  was  omitted  on  the  ground, 
as  stated  by  the  author,  that  it  has  no  significance  in 
America.  On  questions  of  this  sort  —  namely,  what  to 
include  and  what  to  omit  —  every  pageant  writer  is  en- 
titled to  be  a  law  unto  himself.  The  purpose  of  pageant 
celebrations  is  to  build  anew  while  preserving  the  best 
of  the  old  traditions.  The  only  safe  rule  is  for  a  writer 
to  make  a  thorough  study  of  the  history  of  the  day  he 
is  to  celebrate,  and  then  decide  how  he  wishes  to  carry 
out  his  festival.* 

If  pageantry  is  to  become  a  permanent  element  in 
modem  life,  it  will  probably  be  in  the  form  of  festivals 
and  ceremonies  in  connection  with  our  hoKdays.  At  the 
same  time  it  should  develop  a  local  drama  parallel  with 
the  festival.  The  historical  pageant  is  too  large  and  too 
costly  an  undertaking  for  production  at  any  but  infrequent 
intervals.  Once  a  community  has  given  a  great  pageant 
it  is  unlikely  that  the  same  city  will  repeat  it  until  several 
years  have  elapsed.  On  the  other  hand,  a  community 
which  has  given  a  successful  pageant  is  left  with  a  desire 
to  make  further  use  of  its  knowledge  of  dramatics.  The 
study  of  costume  designing,  dancing,  and  music,  as  well 
as  of  the  thousand  and  one  other  details  of  a  spectacle, 
will  have  been  made  to  no  purpose  if  it  is  all  to  be  given 
up   and   forgotten  at   the   end   of  the  pageant.     Annual 

*  Thus  in  studying^  the  origin  of  May  Day  customs,  Vol.  I,  Chap.  VIII 
of  Chambers'  The  Medixval  Stage  will  be  found  excellent.  Charles  I.amb's 
A  Masque  of  Days,  with  illu.strations  by  Walter  Crane  (in  the  modem  edi- 
tion), is  a  delightful  fantasy  on  the  days  of  tiic  year.  It  is  not,  however, 
in  dramatic  form. 


36         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

holiday  festivals  offer  one  method  of  continuing  the  lessons 
learned  from  pageantry;   pageant  drama  offers  another. 

Pageant  drama  has  had  as  yet  but  few  experimental 
trials  as  a  community  art.  Even  when  local  groups  have 
interested  themselves  in  the  drama,  it  has  been  more  or 
less  for  the  sake  of  the  amusement  to  be  derived  from 
"amateur  theatricals."  Seldom  were  the  plays  themselves 
the  product  of  local  writers,  nor  was  there  much  idea  of 
stimulating  interest  beyond  the  particular  performance 
in  view.  After  an  experience  with  historical  pageantry, 
however,  it  should  be  easy  to  organize  one  or  more  groups 
anxious  to  carry  on  and  still  further  develop  their  dramatic 
skill. 

Like  historical  pageantry,  pageant  drama  should  be  the 
work  of  the  community  from  the  writing  of  the  text  to 
the  finished  production.  The  subject-matter  itself,  as  far 
as  may  be,  should  be  local.  Nearly  every  town  has  a 
real  or  legendary  hero,  or  a  tradition,  which  would  make 
good  dramatic  material.  There  are  always  the  Indian 
legends  if  all  else  fails.  After  the  material  close  at  hand 
has  been  exhausted,  more  ambitious  themes  could  be  tried. 
The  entire  field  of  folk-lore,  classic  mythology,  and  history 
is  open  to  the  writers  of  pageant  drama. 

There  are  as  many  possible  types  of  pageant  drama  as 
there  are  of  regular  drama.  It  is  unlike  the  drama  of  the 
professional  stage,  however,  in  that  it  is  written  to  be 
acted  by  amateurs  and  its  plot  may  have  only  a  local 
appeal.  Furthermore,  it  may  be  constructed  to  fit  a 
particular  outdoor  stage  and  thus  have  its  representation 
limited  to  a  given  set  of  conditions.     Strictly  speaking, 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  37 

there  is  no  hard  and  fast  line  which  differentiates  the 
structure  of  pageant  drama  from  that  of  the  spectacular 
plays  of  the  commercial  theatre.  The  limitations  imposed 
upon  pageant  drama  as  a  community  art  are  simply  those 
imphed  in  amateur  acting  and  representation  on  an  open- 
air  stage.  The  emotional  content  of  pageant  drama  should 
be  simple  since  amateur  actors  are  unable  to  express  pro- 
found emotion,  while  the  problem  of  staging  a  play  out- 
doors also  necessitates  simplicity  in  plot  treatment.^ 

Like  the  historical  pageant,  however,  pageant  drama\ 
places  its  chief  emphasis  upon  pictorial  values.  The 
simphcity  of  plot  and  the  inexperience  of  the  actors  are 
compensated  for  by  the  beauty  of  the  coloring  and  group- 
ing. Therefore  its  tone  and  atmosphere  are  usually  poetic 
and  rom£uitic.  Like  the  regular  drama,  again,  its  story 
concerns  the  adventures  of  a  single  hero.  In  the  historical 
pageant  the  community  is  the  hero;  in  pageant  drama  the 
hero  is  a  real  or  legendary  individual. 

A  better  understanding  of  the  general  type  which  has 
been  described  as  pageant  drama  may  be  had  by  references 
to  some  specific  plays.  The  Elizabethan  chronicle  history 
plays  are  representative  of  the  structural  form  of  pageant 
drama.  Shakespeare's  Henry  the  Fifth,  with  its  dramati- 
zation of  the  warrior  king  and  his  conquest  of  the  French 
at  Agincourt,,  illustrates  tlie  kind  of  pageant  drama  which 
treats  of  history  and  is  yet  not  a  historical  pageant  in  the 
modem  sense.    In  these  chronicle-history  plays  the  historic 

*  Or  if  an  amateur  paf^eant  drama  is  given  upon  an  indoor  stage,  the 
chances  are  that  the  scenic  equipment  will  be  on  a  simple  scale.  See  Chap. 
IV  on  Production. 


38         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

events  are  limited  tx)  those  of  a  single  reign.  The  time 
covered  does  not  exceed  the  life  of  the  principal  charac- 
ter —  in  fact  the  incidents  may  include  but  a  brief  portion 
of  the  hero's  career.  To-day,  for  example,  if  a  dramatist 
were  to  portray  the  life  of  George  Washington,  say  in  a 
drama  intended  for  performance  at  Mount  Vernon,  his 
method  of  composition  would  closely  resemble  that  of  the 
chronicle  history  play,  and  the  result  would  be  pageant 
drama,  not  a  historical  pageant. 

Certain  of  Mr.  Louis  N.  Parker's  plays  written  for  the 
professional  theatre  are  in  reahty  pageant  dramas  —  as 
for  instance  Drake.  Continuity  of  plot,  in  plays  of  this 
type,  is  often  sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  a  series  of  varied 
and  picturesque  incidents  having  a  particular  period  for 
a  background.  In  Drake  the  pictures  of  the  times,  of 
Elizabeth  and  her  court,  are  of  equal  importance  with 
the  actions  of  the  hero.  Unity  is  achieved  by  the  total 
impression  instead  of  by  a  closely  knit  story.  Many 
scenes  in  this  type  of  drama  might  stand  by  themselves, 
so  Kttle  are  they  causally  connected  with  the  other.  Of 
course  if  a  pageant  drama  is  intended  for  the  open  air,  it 
must  be  written  so  as  not  to  be  dependent  for  its  success 
upon  scenic  effects.  A  locahty  may  be  changed  on  the 
outdoor  stage,  it  is  true,  by  a  Httle  stretching  of  theatrical 
convention,  but  it  is  obvious  that  this  should  not  be  done 
unless  a  change  of  scene  is  unavoidable.  A  production  of 
Henry  the  Fifth  would  be  more  artistic  in  the  open  air 
than  one  of  Mr.  Parker's  Drake,  quite  apart  from  any 
comparison  of  hterary  merit.  Shakespeare  wrote  for  a 
platform  stage  and  was  not  daunted  by  imagining  a  cock- 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  39 

pit  the  "vasty  fields  of  France,"  whereas  the  deck  of 
Drake's  flagship  demands  the  scenic  accessories  of  a  modern 
theatre.  In  Shakespeare  the  background  and  coloring  is 
found  in  the  words  of  his  lines.  Mr.  Parker's  drama 
would  be  somewhat  bare  and  meagre  without  its  stage 
scenery.  The  point  which  this  comparison  illustrates  is  a 
sufficiently  trite  one,  yet  it  cannot  be  too  often  empha- 
sized: a  play  of  whatever  nature  should  be  written  with 
a  knowledge  of  the  conditions  under  which  it  is  to  be 
produced. 

As  has  been  said  earfier  in  this  chapter,  pageant  drama 
is  not  restricted  to  historical  subjects.  Folk-lore,  the 
legends  of  King  Arthur  and  of  Robin  Hood,  the  stories 
and  mythology  of  ancient  Greece,*  even  the  Biblical  narra- 
tives, all  furnish  unlimited  plots  for  pageant  drama.  An 
example  of  a  pageant  drama  based  upon  local  Indian 
legends  was  the  authors'  The  Magic  of  the  Hills.^  Frag- 
ments of  two  or  three  stories  were  woven  together,  par- 
ticular care  being  taken  to  keep  the  plot  simple  and  to 
adapt  it  to  the  kind  of  outdoor  stage  on  which  it  was  to 
be  produced.  The  object  was  to  create  a  drama  which 
was  not  so  elaborate  as  a  historical  pageant,  one  requiring 
less  time  to  prepare  and  rehearse,  and  yet  within  the 
range  of  amateur  acting.     Another  advantage  of  pageant 

'  About  17^1  Servandoni,  scene-designer  for  the  Paris  Opera,  gave  in 
the  Tuileries  a  series  of  spectacles  which  one  could  describe  to-day  as 
*'pageant-<Irama,"  Among  the  titles  of  these  plays  one  notes  The  History 
of  Pandora,  "with  special  lighting  effects";  Eneas'  Descent  into  Hades; 
The  Various  Adventures  of  Ulysses;  Hero  and  l^ander;  and  an  allegorical 
series  of  tableaux  entitled   Tfie  Crowning  of  Constancy.     See  Bapst,  p.  A??. 

*  Produced  at  Hanover,  N.  H.,  in  August,  igiA^ 


40         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

drama  is  that  it  requires  fewer  performers.  About  two 
hundred  people  were  used  in  The  Magic  of  the  Hills,  but 
a  successful  open-air  play  would  be  possible  on  a  small 
stage  with  fifty. 

A  modem  processional  pageant  is  closely  akin  to  the 
mediaeval  "triumph."  This  type,  with  proper  care  and 
study,  may  be  made  most  artistic,  but  it  is  more  difficult 
for  the  pageant  master  to  control.  Many  organizations, 
such  as  local  fire-companies,  may  properly  insist  upon 
their  right  to  take  part,  and  how  best  to  dispose  of  these 
incongruous  elements  is  the  chief  problem  the  pageant 
director  must  solve.  In  general,  the  processional  pageant 
is  historical  in  pmpose,  with  "floats"  intended  to  represent 
important  scenes  in  tableaux  form.  Impersonations  of 
local  heroes,  as  well  as  historic  groups,  may  be  added. 
It  goes  without  saying  that  if  various  organizations  wish 
to  join  the  parade  and  cannot,  at  the  same  time,  be  per- 
suaded to  doff  their  uniforms  for  historic  clothes,  the 
pageant  must  be  divided  into  two  parts.  The  first  part 
will  comprise  the  historical  and  allegorical  portions  of  the 
procession,  the  second  part  all  the  rest,  —  militia,  fire- 
department,  and  .  civic  societies  and  organizations.  On 
one  matter,  however,  an  efficient  pageant  master  is  privi- 
leged to  be  firm.  He  should  refuse  permission  to  combine 
with  his  parade  local  advertising  features,  unless  he  has 
on  hand  the  problem  of  a  pin-ely  industrial  and  economic 
pageant.  In  the  latter  case,  he  can  plan  beforehand  and 
insure  that  his  procession  is  not  composed  of  independent 
and  inharmonious  elements.  Much  could  be  done  to  make 
industrial  pageants  worth  while,  if  the  business  men  of  a 


TYPES  OF  DRAJMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 


41 


community  would  consent  to  trust  the  planning  to  an 
experienced  committee.  We  should  then  be  spared  the 
local  milk-wagon  decorated  with  red,  white,  and  blue 
bunting,  followed  by  a  moving-van  covered  with  flags. 
An  artistic  industrial  parade  would  be  better  advertising 
both  for  a  town  and  for  the  firms  taking  part  than  the 
usual  attempts  at  such  affairs. 

The  masque  and  pastoral  are  dramatic  types,  which  re-  o^^^^^^^'^-^ 
jgmble  each  other.     They  might  also  be  listed  as  vapapts /^p<x3>w 
of  pageant  drama.     Nevertheless  they  do  possess  certain  ^v^Lj^t-v>cf 
distinctive  characteristics  which  seem  to  entitle  them  to  a    i^a^H^^*"^ 
separate  classification.    The  masque  is  a  short  allegorical 
play  ^  in  which  the  principal  characters  are  personifications 
of  ideas,  or,  as  in  Percy  Mackaye's— TAe  Masque  of  SL 
Louis,  the  hero  ofjhejaasque  is  the  personification  of  the_ 

community.      TV>p   ybI"*"   ^^   ^    masqn^    is   in    prf^pnrfmn   jr^ 

the  poetic  feeling  which  it  expresses.  It  differs  from  the 
pageant  of  ideas  in  that  it  does  not  set  forth  the  growth 
or  evolution  of  its  subject,  but  presents  its  theme  in -a 
single  imiBed  treatment.  Usually  a  masque  is  on  a  smaller^ 
scale  than  a  pageant,  thus  requiring  fewer  performer&_and 
li^T^elaborate   preparations. Communities   too   small   to 


•  Cf.  H.  A.  Evaas'  description  of  an  Elizabethan  masque  in  his  English 
Masques,  p.  34:  "The  masque,  then,  is  a  combination,  in  variable  pro- 
portions, of  speech,  dance,  and  song,  but  its  assential  and  invariable  feature 
is  the  presence  of  a  group  of  dancers,  varying  in  numlwr,  but  commonly 
eight,  twelve,  or  sixteen,  called  Masquers.  These  masquers  never  take  any 
part  in  the  speaking  or  in  the  singing;  all  they  have  to  do  is  to  make  an 
imposing  show  and  to  dance."  Gradually  these  ma.squers  elaborated  their 
entry  and  their  importance  in  the  performance  until  they  acted  a  little 
drama  in  itself.  This  antimasque,  as  it  was  called,  was  a  foil  or  contrast, 
sometimes  in  humorous  form,  to  the  masque. 


K- 


42         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

attempt  more  elaborate  and  costly  forms  can  present 
masques  without  encountering  insuperable  obstacles.  The 
writing  of  a  masque  is  the  most  difficult  part,  because 
like  all  allegorical  material,  it  demands  the  vision  of  a 
poet  —  not  necessarily,  however,  his  technical  skill.  In 
every  community  there  are  people  with  poetic  vision  who 
perhaps  cannot  express  themselves  in  polished  lyrics,  yet 
may  find  in  the  creation  of  a  masque  an  unexpected  outlet 
for  their  imaginations. 

The  pastoral,  another  of  the  historic  forms  of  dramatic 
composition,  is  a  dehcate  and  flexible  type  of  lyric  drama.* 
It  is  particularly  suited,  when  studied  from  a  fresh  point 
of  view,  for  outdoor  festivals,  especially  those  connected 
with  the  spring,  summer  and  autumn.  Like  the  masque, 
it  may  be  performed  by  only  a  few  characters.  In  its 
structure  the  plot  is  more  or  less  an  excuse  for  song,  dance 
and  dainty  grouping.  Its  spirit  is  governed  by  the  occa- 
sion for  which  it  is  devised.  This  spirit  also  unifies  the 
plot  which  would  otherwise  dissipate  itself  in  a  search  for 
pure  beauty.  The  chief  danger  is  that  paucity  of  idea 
will  be  concealed  under  music  and  dance.  Keeping  in 
mind,  however,  the  value  of  unity  of  structure,  the  pastoral 
is  capable  of  the  most  diverse  treatment.  For  small 
agricultural   communities   it  is  ideal.     Often   towns   and 

f*  Cf.  Greg's  definition,  p.  SSq:  "The  romeintic  pastoral  in  England  was 
a  combination  of  the  Arcadian  drama  of  England  with  the  chivalric  romance 
of  Spain,  as  famiUarized  through  the  meditmi  of  Sidney's  work,  and  also, 
through  less  consistently,  with  the  never  very  fully  developed  tradition  of 
the  mythological  play.  In  form,  again,  it  may  be  said  to  represent  the 
mingling  of  the  conventions  of  the  Italian  drama  with  the  freer  action  and 
more  direct  and  dramatic  presentation  of  the  romantic  stage."  See  also 
Chap.  II  of  Jeanette  Mark's  English  Pastoral  Drama. 


TYPES  OF  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY  43 

villages  are  too  new  or  lack  the  population  necessary  for 
the  historical  pageant,  but  there  is  no  reason  therefore 
why  they  should  not  share  in  the  joy  of  pageantry. 
Through  the  pastoral  or  the  masque  they  will  be  able  to 
have  some  measure  of  that  self-expression  which  larger 
communities  find  in  historical  pageantry. 

It  is  clear  from  a  consideration  of  the  types  suggested 
that  pageantry  is  capable  of  an  infinite  number  of  varia- 
tions and  combinations.  There  is  no  reason  why  pageant 
workers  should  single  out  the  historical  pageants  as  the 
only  orthodox  form.  To  do  so  is  to  condemn  pageantry 
to  ultimate  stagnation.  The  historical  pageant  exhausts 
the  possibilities  of  this  art  too  quickly.  Towns  and  cities 
cannot  be  expected  to  go  on  presenting  historic  episodes  at 
regular  intervals.  If  pageantry  is  of  value,  surely  that 
value  is  not  extracted  to  the  uttermost  by  one  year's 
efforts.  The  purpose  of  pageantry,  on  the  contrary,  is 
to  create  a  desire  for  community  expression  through  the 
drama.  It  is  essential,  therefore,  for  pageantry  continu- 
ally to  experiment,  with  the  object  of  developing  new  forms, 
that  it  may  have  fresh  means  for  keeping  ahve  its  art. 
Vital  things  grow.  To  define  and  standardize  is  to  kill. 
The  original  pageant  worker  does  not  bother  much  with 
definitions.  What  he  desires  above  all  is  to  achieve  artistic 
results  of  permanent  value.  With  that  goal  in  view,  he  will 
not  be  bound  by  a  single  type,  but  he  will  exercise  his  crea- 
tive powers  in  inventing  new  forms,  appropriate  to  the  cir- 
cumstances and  conditions  in  each  case.  There  is  only  one 
thing  to  remember  —  that  the  ideal  of  pageantry  is  to  give 
the  community  self-expression  through  a  beautiful  art. 


Chapter  III 
WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK 

"  The  dramatist  is  judged  by  the  same  standard  of  criticism  that  applies  to 
,    other  creative  artists"  —  William  Poel. 

THE  book  for  a  historical  pageant  may  be  the  product 
of  a  single  author,  of  two  or  more  collaborators,  or 
of  a  committee  working  under  the  direction  of  a  chair- 
man. It  is  advisable,  even  when  one  person  is  responsible 
for  the  text  as  a  whole,  to  appoint  a  historical  censor  and 
a  committee  to  assist  in  gathering  materials.  If  time  is 
limited,  collecting  the  facts  should  be  divided  among 
several  groups,  since  the  problem  of  studying  the  historical 
materials,  choosing  and  constructing  the  episodes,  and 
writing  the  dialogue  would  be  too  great  a  burden  for  one 
man.  The  ideal  way  is  not  to  write  a  pageant  in  haste. 
Unfortunately,  in  practice  it  is  frequently  necessary  to 
prepare  a  text  in  a  few  weeks'  time. 

The  group-system  of  preparing  the  text  has  the  advan- 
tage of  admitting  more  people  to  a  share  in  the  creative 
work  of  the  pageant,  but  its  disadvantages  need  careful 
consideration  before  this  plan  is  adopted.  Unless  the 
committee  is  under  the  direction  of  a  competent  chair- 
man, or  possesses  an  unusual  nmnber  of  members  with 
Uterary  abihty,  the  result  might  be  an  unsatisfactory  or  a 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  45 

loosely  constructed  text.^  Hence  a  thorough  investiga- 
tion of  the  hterary  talent  available  in  the  community  is 
necessary  before  appointing  the  committee.  In  any  event, 
whether  the  text  is  written  by  a  committee  or  by  an  author 
working  with  or  without  collaboration,^  the  pageant  mas- 
ter's decision  must  be  final  on  aU  questions  concerning 
the  selection,  length  and  structure  of  the  episodes.  He 
should  have  a  free  hand  to  add  anything  or  to  reject  any- 
thing that  in  his  opinion  is  unsuitable.  Therefore  the 
first  step  in  writing  the  book  is  to  make  the  pageant  master 
an  arbiter  from  whose  decisions  there  can  be  no  appeal. 

The  work  of  preparing  the  book  for  the  historical  pa- 
geant falls  into  three  main  divisions:  gathering  materials, 
selecting  and  outlining  the  structure  of  the  episodes,  and 
writing  the  dialogue.  These  three  sections  will  be  dis- 
cussed in  the  order  named. 

There  are  three  main  sources  of  historical  material: 
(a)  Primary  sources.  These  are  original  documents  of  all 
kinds,  such  as  town  records,  acts  of  the  legislature,  decisions 
of  the  courts,  contemporary  newspapers,  placards  and  pro- 
clamations, diaries  of  pubfic  or  private  men,  and  official  or 
private  correspondence.  (6)  Secondary  sources.  These  are 
historical  writings  based  uf>on  primary  sources.  They  may 
be  either  histories  of  the  town,  state  or  nation,  or  even 
sometimes  historical  fiction,     (c)  Local  traditions.     These 

'  This  method  was,  however,  successfully  followed  at  Oxford  and  in  pre- 
paring the  Yale  Pageant. 

*  As  Wagner  said:  "The  tnie  artist  finds  delight  not  only  in  the  aim  of 
his  creation,  but  also  in  the  very  process  of  cre^ition,  in  the  handling  and 
moulding  of  his  material.  Tho  very  act  of  prtnluction  is  to  him  a  gladsome, 
satisfying  activity;    no  toil."  —  Art  and  lievolulion,  p.  48. 


46         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

traditions  are  sometimes  associated  with  particular  events 
in  the  history  of  the  town,  or  refer  to  the  careers  of  indi- 
vidual families. 

The  primary  sources  are  naturally  the  most  important. 
To  these  the  author  goes  for  his  facts,  for  an  accurate 
account  of  the  principal  events  in  the  history  of  the  com- 
munity. The  secondary  sources  are  useful  guides  which 
indicate  the  probable  path  to  be  followed.  The  local 
traditions  are  sometimes  the  most  valuable  of  all.  Tra- 
dition has  a  knack  of  preserving  local  color  and  vivid 
details  which  are  not  worth  the  dignity  of  formal  record. 
Nevertheless  it  is  in  these  very  details  that  is  found  the 
material  which  gives  vitality  to  the  completed  episodes. 

Much  study  and  research,  therefore,  are  necessary  be- 
fore the  author  is  equipped  to  write  his  text.  He  must 
remember  that  he  is  more  than  a  story-teUer  seeking  for 
plot  material.  If  the  pageant  is  to  have  any  real  value, 
its  builder  must  share  some  of  the  responsibihty  of  a 
historian  —  which  is  another  way  of  saying  that  he  must 
know  his  subject.  He  must  grudge  neither  time  nor 
effort  to  assimilate  his  knowledge.  He  will  avail  himself 
of  all  the  advice  and  help  obtainable  in  acquiring  his 
facts.  If  he  is  a  stranger  to  the  community  and  ignorant 
of  its  detailed  history,  his  task  is  correspondingly  greater. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  frequently  happens  that  local  enthu- 
siasm over  the  pageant  will  imlock  private  diaries  and 
correspondence  which  have  not  been  hitherto  available 
to  the  writers  of  history.  Therefore  the  pageant  author 
should  be  a  man  of  some  training  in  estimating  the  value 
of  historical  material.     He  often  has  to  weigh  conflicting 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  47 

testimony  concerning  certain  events  and  decide  for  him- 
self what  really  occmred.  In  doing  all  this,  he  will,  of 
course,  check  his  results  by  the  work  of  the  historians 
who  have  been  over  the  ground  before  him.  Only  the 
strongest  evidence  from  primary  sources  will  justify  him 
in  any  new  interpretation  of  the  accepted  facts.  Never- 
theless secondary  sources  are  far  from  infaUible.  Indeed, 
their  accoimts  are  often  distorted  by  prejudice  or  warped 
to  fit  a  particular  theory.  When  the  author's  own  re- 
searches uncover  apparent  mistakes  or  distortions  of  this 
kind,  it  is  his  duty  to  come  to  his  own  decision  in  the 
matter. 

After  going  over  all  his  materials,  his  final  notes  will  be 
a  fairly  complete  outline  of  the  principal  events  in  the 
history  of  the  conmiunity.  As  these  notes  were  gathered, 
they  should  have  been  accompanied  by  a  card-index 
indicating  in  each  case  the  source  from  which  the  material 
was  derived.  For  example,  here  is  an  imaginary  card 
showing  the  way  information  should  be  entered  for  future 
reference:  — 

SPECIMEN   CARD 


1664     Purchase  of  the  Land    ([General  title] 
For  a  copy  of  the  indentures,  see  State  Records,  vol.  I,  p.  a6. 

Reprinted  with  annotations  in  Historical  Society  Transactions, 

vol.  Ill,  p.  gf). 

First  contemporary  account  of  the  transaction,  see  Diary  of 

Ephraim    Wilson,    p.  ^3  —  diary    in    public   library,   call   no. 

Hj.127, 2. 
Secondary  sources:  See  Wilkie,  Hist,  of  the  State,  vol.  I, 

p.   Qo.     Tradition:    Ephraim   offered    to    marry    the   Chiers 

daughter.     (Ask  Mr.  J about  this.) 


48         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

This  sample  card  is  offered  merely  as  a  suggestion  for  one 
way  of  systematizing  the  collection  of  the  material.  It  is, 
of  course,  important  to  have  some  method  that  will  enable 
the  author  to  refer  back  to  the  sources  for  every  fact  he  uses. 
In  order  to  get  access  to  his  facts,  the  writer  must 
secure  the  cooperation  of  all  those  to  whom  materials  have 
been  entrusted  for  safe-keeping.  Pubhc  records  are  nearly 
always  available  upon  showing  proper  references.  Usually 
they  cannot  be  removed  from  the  building  in  which  they 
are  kept.  The  local  librarian's  advice  and  services  are 
invaluable.  He  has  a  knowledge  of  material  beyond  that 
in  his  own  library,  is  informed  concerning  the  location  of 
pubUc  records,  and,  in  most  cases,  has  at  hand  a  bibli- 
ography of  local  histories  and  documents.  Nearly  every 
town  possesses,  in  addition,  an  antiquary  who  has  made 
the  study  of  the  community  his  life  hobby.  He  has  been 
at  much  pains  to  gather  tradition,  gossip,  and  genealogies. 
His  information  is  not  always  accurate,  for  he  often  sees 
local  history  through  rose-colored  glasses,  but  he  is  by 
no  means  to  be  neglected  on  that  account.  Again,  in 
larger  towns,  there  are  historical  societies  or  clubs  which 
have  collected  documents  and  rehcs  often  of  the  highest 
importance  to  the  pageant  author.  Finally,  there  are  the 
private  diaries  and  correspondence  of  the  older  famihes. 
Tact  and  patience  sometimes  are  necessary  to  get  access 
to  these.  However,  the  author's  enthusiasm  should  be 
sufficient  to  carry  him  triumphant  over  all  difficulties. 
Generally  it  is  sufficient  for  him  to  make  clear  the 
serious  nature  of  his  work  in  order  to  obtain  anything 
that  he  may  require. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  49 

It  is  assumed  that,  while  the  historical  material  is  being 
collected,  the  author  will  visit  and  study  all  the  locaHties 
where  the  events  occurred.  Sometimes  it  is  not  easy  to 
identify  an  actual  place,  particularly  a  scene  associated 
with  Indian  legends  or  the  earhest  settlers.  Here  also 
traditions  may  conflict.  It  may  be  that  certain  of  the 
locahties  have  never  been  definitely  identified  because  the 
matter  has  not  been  considered  of  sufficient  importance; 
nevertheless  a  little  care  in  research  will  often  estabhsh 
a  particular  pond,  hill,  or  woods  as  the  actual  scene  of  a 
popular  tradition.  Its  rediscovery  and  identification  will 
add  not  a  httle  to  the  town's  interest  in  the  work  of  the 
pageant  and  are  therefore  well  worth  the  expense  of  extra 
time.  In  any  event,  however,  the  author  must  see  such 
of  the  old  houses  as  remain;  he  must  compare  the  present 
with  the  past  as  shown  on  old  maps,  and,  in  short,  leave 
no  stone  unturned  that  may  add  to  familiarity  with  the 
place  in  which  he  is  to  set  his  scene.  Above  all,  let  him 
ransack  the  old  attics  for  papers,  costumes,  family  heir- 
looms, and  historical  refics  which  have  been  forgotten,  neg- 
lected or  not  considered  worthy  a  place  in  the  local  museum. 

His  materials  collected,  classified,  and  absorbed,  the 
next  step  is  to  choose  from  the  number  of  possible 
episodes  those  most  suitable  for  the  pageant.  There 
are  several  factors  which  influence  the  selection  of  his 
scenes:  i.  What  is  the  occasion  or  object  of  the  pageant.^ 
2.  WTiat  are  the  events  most  important  in  their  influence, 
on  the  town's  history,  or  appropriate  for  the  chosen 
occasion?  3.  Which  events  are  the  most  picturesque  and 
dramatic.^    These  questions  should  be  answered  in  order. 


50         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

/  I.  IjLjs^ necessary  for  every  well  constructed  pageant 
I  to  be  founded  upon  a  definite  idea,^wEicF  is  as  much  as 
1  to  say  that,  it.  ^gs  a  purpr^gA  A  pageant  is  not  a  work 
\  which  exists  for  its  own  sake.  The  mere  fact  that  a  large 
proportion  of  the  community  cooperates  in  its  production 
reduces  the  personality  of  the  author  to  a  minimum.  He 
does  not  aim  to  express  his  own  views,  but  to  voice  the 
historical  development  of  the  town,  to  interpret  the  mean- 
ing of  its  history.  Therefore  it  must  first  of  all  have  a 
meaning  to  him  quite  apart  from  that  of  a  chronological 
sequence  of  facts.  His  must  be  the  larger  vision  that 
sees  into  the  past  and  reads  there  the  present  and  even 
something  of  the  future.  It  may  be  that  no  one  else  sees 
what  he  has  seen;  all  the  more,  then,  it  is  his  duty  to 
make  the  vision  evident  through  his  pageant.  The  author 
should  r^iise  his  community  to  assume  an  ideal,  if  it  have 
it  not> 

/  To  come  down  to  a  more  practical  statement,  the  pa- 
geant structure  rests  upon  a  central  idea  or  theme  of  which 
the  principal  episodes  are  illustrations  and  the  interludes 
an  allegorical  expression  of  the  subject.^  Step  by  step  the 
episodes  and  interiudes  build  up  the  idea,  until  in  the  finale 
it  becomes  manifest  to  all  and  the  pageant  then  roimds 
itself  off  to  a  natural  close.     Thus  the  Foreword  to  the 

^  Professor  Dickinson  describes  the  structure  of  a  pageant  as  consisting 
of  a  "salient  plot"  and  a  "contributory  plot."  The  salient  plot  is  composed 
of  all  the  material  of  the  episodes  themselves;  the  contributory  plot 
(a  containing  plot,  as  he  also  describes  it)  is  comprised  of  all  the  actions 
which  are  necessary  to  explain  and  write  the  main  plot  into  a  coherent 
whole,  such  as  prologue  and  epilogue,  link  passages,  explanatory  and  narra- 
tive passages,  and  interludes.  —  The  Case  of  American  Drama,  Chap.  V,  pp. 
172-3. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  51 

Plattsburgh  Centennial  Celebration  ^  proclaims  that  "  the 
Pageant  of  the  Champlain  Valley  is  designed  to  give  in 
a  few  chosen  episodes  some  of  the  striking  features  of  the 
history  of  the  valley  and  to  tmn  thought  natm-ally  from 
the  past  to  the  future,  that  the  people  may  glimpse  a 
vision  of  a  great  standing  army  with  swords  sheathed 
and  guns  at  rest,  following  the  Angel  of  Peace  dovra  the 
centuries."  Likewise  the  Hertford  Pageant,^  a  purely 
historical  spectacle  without  allegorical  interludes,  is  founded 
on 

—  "the  glory  of  the  days 

When  our  forefathers  fought  to  be  free. 

To  be  free. 
On  the  banks  of  the  lush-meadowed  Lea." 

2.  Enough  has  been  said  to  make  clear  what  is  meant 
by  founding  the  structure  of  the  pageant  upon  an  idea. 
It  is  also  desirable  to  include  all  the  episodes  of  impor- 
tance in  the  history  of  the  town.  Minor  incidents  are 
first  eliminated,  although  not  necessarily  discarded  entirely, 
for  they  may  be  worked  in  later  on.  But  what  the  author 
needs  to  know  at  the  outset  is  his  irreducible  minimum. 
Next,  do  the  important  events  tentatively  chosen  harmon- 
ize with  the  idea  on  which  the  whole  structure  is  to  rest? 
Usually  they  do,  if  the  writer's  idea  has  come  from  sound 
insight  into  the  community's  history.  Nevertheless  it  may 
be  necessary  to  bridge  gaps  in  historical  time  and  subject- 

*  September  6  to  ii,  igi^.  Plattsburgh,  N.  Y.  Official  program,  p. 
36.     Book  by  Margaret  Maclaren  Eager. 

*  Hertford,  EIngland,  June  29  to  July  4.  iQiA-  Book  by  Charles  H. 
ABhdown. 


52         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

matter  with  allegorical  interludes.  There  then  arises  the 
practical  question  of  the  actual  time  available  for  the 
representation,  since  this  factor  necessarily  puts  a  limit 
on  the  number  of  episodes  and  interludes  possible.  A 
fair  length  of  time  for  the  acting  of  a  pageant  is  two  hours 
and  a  half,  without  allowing  for  intermissions.  Episodes 
ought  not,  as  a  general  rule,  to  require  more  than  twenty 
minutes,  some  considerably  less,  and  the  interludes,  ten 
to  fifteen  minutes.  With  a  rough  basis  for  a  time  scheme 
in  his  mind,  the  author  will  again  consult  his  historical 
material.  How  many  episodes  has  he  already  determined 
are  too  important  to  be  omitted?  On  how  many  inter- 
ludes does  his  plan  depend?  He  can  now  form  an  approxi- 
mation of  the  time  required  for  representation  and  so 
make  further  additions  or  excisions  in  his  material,  as  the 
case  may  be. 

It  is  customary  to  group  in  a  single  division  the  episodes 
of  each  century.  The  reason  is  that  each  century  has  its 
characteristic  tone  and  atmosphere,  thus  making  a  natural 
separation  between  the  episode-groups.  The  interludes 
then  are  placed  between  the  hundred-year  units. 

3.  Pageant  episodes  fall  into  three  general  classes,  the 
picturesque  or  pictorial,^  the  narrative,  and  the  dramatic. 
Of  these  three  the  first  presents  the  least,  and  the  third 
the  most,  difi&culty  to  the  text-writer.  A  pictorial  episode 
is  one  which  concerns  itself  mainly  with  some  ceremonial, 
say  a  reception  of  General  Washington  by  the  conununity, 
but  has  otherwise  Httle  of  the  narrative  or  dramatic  ele- 

*  Of  course  in  one  sense  all  episodes  are  "pictorial";  here  is  meant, 
however,  the  kind  of  episode  which  has  no  progressive  story  to  tell. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  53 

ments.  These  episodes  are  usually  in  pantomime  or  with 
only  a  TninimiiTn  of  dialogue,  since  it  is  the  ceremonial 
picture  and  not  the  story  that  is  interesting.  The  writer 
of  the  text  prepares  the  stage  directions  in  a  general  way, 
—  particularly  is  he  careful  to  give  the  facts  and  details 
concerning  the  actual  scene  as  history  records  them,  — 
and  the  producer  proceeds  to  work  out  the  groupings 
required.^  A  list  of  characters  is  drawn  up,  even  though 
none  of  them  may  have  a  speaking  part.  The  pictorial 
episode  gives  a  pleasant  variety  to  the  pageant,  but  like 
the  interlude  should  seldom  exceed  ten  minutes  in  repre- 
sentation. 

Further,  the  pictorial  episode  may  be  divided  into  two 
classes,  the  static  and  the  kinetic.  A  static  episode  is  in 
the  nature  of  a  historical  tableau  of  some  important  event. 
In  this  type,  it  will  usually  be  foimd  that  individuals  are 
the  focus  of  interest.  The  moment  of  greatest  importance 
is  a  pause,  as,  to  use  again  the  example  cited  above  of  the 
reception  to  General  Washington,  the  tableau  formed  at 
the  ihstant  of  his  first  appearance.  The  kinetic  episode, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  one  composed  wholly  of  movement, 
such  as  a  battle  scene.  The  interest  is  in  the  ebb  and 
flow  of  the  swiftly  moving  figures,  and  not  in  the  actions 
of  a  few  individuals.  The  latter  species  of  episode  may 
often  have  a  musical  accompaniment  which  helps  to  ex- 
press the  spirit  of  the  scene.  In  either  case,  the  writing 
of  such  episodes  is  largely  a  matter  of  the  author's  power 
to  visualize  his  scene  and  then  to  set  down  an  accurate 
description  of   it.     The   most   painstaking   contemporary 

^  See  Chap.  VI,  Grouping. 


54         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

accounts  will  need  much  supplementing  from  an  intelligent 
imagination  before  they  can  be  rendered  faithfully  upon 
the  stage.  The  pictorial  episode  must  contain  sufficient 
detail  to  make  it  clear,  both  as  to  meaning  and  as  a  picture 
of  the  times,  but  it  must  not  be  overloaded  with  irrelevant 
details  which  tend  to  obscure  the  point  of  the  scene.  There 
is  sometimes  a  tendency  to  embroider  the  picture  over- 
elaborately.     The  central  focus  must  never  be  lost  sight  of. 

A  narrative  episode,  in  distinction  from  a  dramatic, 
simply  contains  a  sequence  of  events  —  or  a  single  event 
—  of  significance  to  the  history  of  the  community  but 
not  necessarily  of  the  stuff  of  which  drama  is  made.  Thus 
the  arrival  of  the  railroad,  or  the  founding  of  a  certain 
industry,  might  have  been  of  such  importance  to  the  town 
as  to  deserve  a  place  in  the  pageant,  yet  no  ingenuity 
could  make  these  events  seem  dramatic.  Here  again  is 
another  point  of  divergence  between  historical  pageantry 
and  the  theatre.  In  pageantry  anything  may  have  interest 
that  is  closely  related  to  the  community;  on  the  stage 
only  dramatic  things  have  a  place. 

The  narrative  episode  should  also  be  written  with  the 
minimum  of  verbiage.  What  the  author  should  aim  for 
is  to  tell  his  story  as  simply  and  directly  as  possible, 
reservLQg  the  main  incident  in  the  episode  for  his  climax. 
The  dialogue  should  move  straight  toward  the  climax, 
and,  once  that  is  reached,  should  end  as  soon  as  possible. 
Dialogue  should  never  be  allowed  to  obscure  the  point 
of  the  story,  nor  fail  to  emphasize  it  when  it  is  reached. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that  a 
narrative  episode  must  have  a  point  (or  climax),  otherwise 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  55 

it  has  no  reason  for  existing.  The  structure  is  of  the 
simplest  possible  form  that  will  tell  the  story  without  too 
much  sacrifice  of  verisimihtude.  On  such  a  date,  a  cer- 
tain event  happened.  When  it  has  been  shown  why  it 
happened  and  how  it  happened,  the  task  is  ended. 

The  dramatic  episode  is  less  easy  to  define  in  precise 
terms,  for  the  reason  that  the  word  "dramatic"  is  itself 
the  victim  of  innumerable  critical  theories.  But  an 
approach  to  a  definition  which  will  answer  the  purpose  of 
historical  pageantry  may  be  arrived  at  by  a  process  of 
description.  An  episode  is  dramatic  when  it  is  concerned 
with  some  important  decision  made  by  a  community,  or 
by  those  in  authority  at  the  time,  the  result  of  which 
decision  was  a  crisis  or  conflict  that  changed  the  destiny 
of  the  town.  In  historical  pageantry,  "dramatic"  does 
not  apply  to  the  human  will  in  action,  as  it  does  in  the 
drama,  but  to  the  action  of  the  collective  or  community 
will.  The  first  point  established  is  that  in  a  dramatic 
episode  the  town  is  the  protagonist  or  hero.  Even  if 
individuals  act  in  the  name  of  the  town,  the  same  is  true, 
for  the  action  concerns  the  destiny  of  all,  not  of  those 
particular  individuals  alone.  The  next  point  is  that  the 
action  or  decision  of  the  community  must  directly  affect, 
or  have  consequences  for,  the  future  of  the  town,  or  of 
the  nation  in  whose  fife  the  town  is  playing  a  part.  Sup- 
pose, for  example,  it  is  found  that,  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  a  small  village,  whose  history  is  being  depicted 
in  pageantry,  resisted  the  tyranny  of  some  unscrupulous 
governor,  and,  through  riot  and  disorder,  maintained  its 
rights.    This  would  be  a  dramatic  episode  for  the  reason 


56         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

that  it  was,  let  us  say,  the  first  manifestation  which  that 
town  had  shown  of  the  wilUngness  to  fight  for  the  spirit 
of  democracy.  The  actual  occurrence  may  have  been  a 
petty  riot  which  really  was  not  regarded  as  highly  impor- 
tant at  the  time.  But  upon  looking  back  over  the  history 
of  that  town,  if  it  is  discovered  that  its  liberties  were 
never  thereafter  infringed,  the  action  of  these  people  is 
seen  to  have  shaped  the  course  of  their  descendants* 
future.  Therefore,  the  dramatic  episode  may  not  neces- 
sarily be,  from  a  popular  point  of  view,  the  most  impor- 
tant event  in  the  life  of  the  town.  It  might  easily  so 
happen  that  at  the  present  day  the  people  would  be  most 
of  them  ignorant  of  this  event  in  the  past.  To  dramatize 
the  history  of  a  town,  then,  is  to  choose  those  episodes 
which  are  particularly  significant  of  the  growth  and  evo- 
lution of  the  community,  and  further  to  show,  in  clear, 
straightforward  fashion,  how  and  why  these  events  were 
significant. 

To  show  the  how  and  why  involves  also  showing  the 
causes  and  motives  underlying  the  action.  In  the  case 
cited,  the  motive  inspiring  the  resistance  to  the  governor 
was  the  fierce  spirit  of  freedom  which  the  people  possessed. 
Something  of  this  spirit  must  therefore  be  shown  to  the 
audience;  the  fact  of  its  existence  must  be  "estabhshed,"^ 
as  the  technical  saying  goes.  Part  of  the  preliminary 
dialogue  and  action  will  be  devoted  to  making  this  clear. 
The  cause  of  the  action  should  be  some  particular  tyran- 
nous move  on  the  part  of  the  governor,  which  led  to  oppo- 

*  To  "establish"  is  to  illustrate  by  one  or  more  specific  examples  during 
the  expository  portion  of  a  scene. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  57 

sition.  This,  too,  must  be  made  specific  to  be  dramatic. 
It  might  happen  that  in  reahty  the  tyranny  had  lasted 
over  a  long  period  of  time,  and  that  the  revolt  was  only 
the  culmination  of  a  series  of  minor  grievances.  But  in  a 
twenty-minute  episode  there  is  no  opportunity  to  rehearse 
a  long  history.^  Some  specific  act  must  be  found,  or,  if 
need  be,  invented,  which  will  serve  as  an  illustration  of  the 
whole  series  of  occurrences.  If  a  specific  cause  is  invented, 
it  must,  of  course,  be  in  harmony  with  the  times;  it  must 
be,  in  short,  a  possible  and  probable  thing  for  that  par- 
ticular governor  to  have  done.  In  this  way  the  spirit  of 
history  will  not  be  violated,  even  if  it  becomes  necessary 
to  imagine  some  of  the  letter.  These  two  matters  made 
clear,  the  motive  and  the  cause,  the  author  should  now 
proceed  directly  to  showing  the  decision  to  oppose  the 
governor  and  the  riotous  consequences.  Since  the  episode 
must  move  rapidly  from  this  point  on,  there  will  be  only 
the  briefest  opportunity  to  characterize  the  leaders.  Nor 
can  the  mental  processes  of  the  governor  be  long  dwelt 
on.  The  riot  itself  should  be  portrayed  as  a  pictorial 
scene,  and  the  final  triumph  of  the  people  should  be 
treated  only  to  the  point  at  which  it  becomes  clear  to  the 
audience.  The  danger  that  many  inexperienced  writers 
incur  is  that,  after  their  climax,  they  desire  to  moralize 
the  spectacle,  to  drive  home  its  meaning  at  considerable 
length,  and  so  end  with  an  anti-climax  resulting  in  a  total 
loss  of  interest  on  the  part  of  the  audience. 
To  sum  up:   a  dramatic  episode  is  one  in  which  an  act 

*  The  "fore-shorteninf?  of  history"  for  the  sta^e  is  a  recognized  dramatic 
convention  to  which  the  audience  will  not  object. 


58         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

of  the  community's  will  is  fraught  with  consequences  for 
the  futm-e  of  the  town.  Individuals  are  important  only 
as  they  are  exponents  of  the  community  will,  or  have 
placed  themselves  in  opposition  to  it.  In  putting  such  an 
episode  on  the  stage,  the  author  must  make  clear  the 
motives  and  causes,  and  then  proceed  to  show  how  the 
event  happened.  To  do  this  he  is  at  liberty  to  use  a 
process  of  condensation  which  may,  in  specific  details,  be 
at  variance  with  the  Hteral  facts,  but  his  method  must 
not  on  this  account  result  in  a  falsification  of  the  spirit 
of  history.  Finally,  upon  passing  the  climax  of  the  action, 
he  should  bend  all  his  eiforts  to  bring  the  episode  to  a 
spirited  and  rapid  close. 

Dialogue,  in  historical  pageantry,  as  on  the  stage,  has 
two  pmposes:  to  portray  character  and  to  advance  the 
story.  ^  Of  course  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that,  in  serv- 
ing these  two  purposes,  the  things  the  characters  do  are  as 
effective  as  the  things  they  say.  The  dialogue,  there- 
fore, is  only  a  part  —  not  the  whole  —  means  to  the 
end.  Especially  in  the  open  air  is  strict  economy  in 
dialogue  advisable.  Lines  often  fail  to  carry  over  the  vast 
space  or  to  the  widely  scattered  audience.  Again,  amateurs 
vary  greatly  in  the  distinctness  of  their  utterance,  so  that 
the  author  must  always  have  in  mind  the  desirabihty  of 

^  Cf.  Chamfort:  "Dialogue  is  properly  the  art  of  conducting  the  action 
by  the  speeches  of  the  characters.  Thus  each  person  says  exactly  what  he 
ought  to  say,  so  that  he  who  speaks  first  quickens  our  interest  by  words 
which  seem  to  the  audience  appropriate  to  his  nature  and  spirit,  while  the 
other  actors  who  reply  or  interrupt,  do  so  according  to  their  proper  charac- 
ters. Finally,  that  dialogue  is  best  which  follows  closely  a  naturtd  order, 
which  utters  no  useless  words,  each  line,  in  short,  forming  another  step 
toward  the  denouement." 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  B(X)K  59 

getting  rid  of  dialogue  whenever  possible.  Whatever  the 
characters  can  do,  let  them  do  it,  rather  than  say  it.  It 
follows,  also,  that  the  lines  should  be  short  and  to  the 
point.  Long  and  involved  speeches  are  confusing  and 
tiresome.  In  a  maximum  time  of  twenty  minutes  every 
word  in  the  scene  should  bear  directly  upon  the  issue. 
There  is  no  room  for  digressions  and  circumlocutions. 
The  reading  of  lengthy  historical  docmnents,  or  of  verba- 
tim records  of  assembhes,  is  to  be  avoided.  The  dry 
facts  of  history  must  be  quickened;  what  is  important  is 
the  vitahty  of  the  event,  not  its  hteral  reproduction.  Too 
often  dialogue  in  pageantry  is  made  heavy  by  well-meant 
quotations,  which  perhaps  were  originally  spoken  indoors, 
or  with  more  than  twenty  minutes  of  time  at  the  disposal 
of  the  speakers.  It  is  a  mistaken  idea  of  historical  ac- 
curacy which  demands  actual  documents  and  proclama- 
tions in  the  dialogue,  instead  of  vivid  summaries.  An 
excellent  illustration  may  be  found  by  compsu-ing  Shake- 
speare's historical  plays  with  his  sources  in  Hohnshed  or 
North's  Plutarch.  Shakespeare  did  not  burden  his  poetry 
with  quotations  from  his  authorities,  but  used  instead  a 
magical  distillation  from  them.  One  is  privileged,  at 
least,  to  follow  his  method,  even  if  one  may  not  hope  for 
his  results. 

In  one  respect  an  illusion  of  a  historical  period  may 
be  achieved  by  careful  attention  to  the  flavor  of  the 
language  of  each  century.  Anachronism  in  the  usage  and 
in  the  meaning  of  words,  as  well  as  the  careless  insertion 
of  modem  colloquialisms,  will  destroy,  for  sensitive  ears, 
the  whole  effect  of  an  episode  as  easily  as  musical  dis- 


60         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

cords  will  annoy  a  musician.  Pedantic  accuracy  is  not 
implied  here,  but  simply  a  suggestion,  say,  of  the  ways  of 
speech  in  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  centuries,  together 
with  a  careful  suppression  of  modem  words  and  idioms 
which  were  not  current  then.  It  likewise  goes  without 
saying  that  even  in  modern  episodes  good  English  should 
be  one  of  the  aims  of  the  dialogue.  It  is,  of  course,  per- 
missible to  use  colloquiahsms  and  even  slang  to  express 
character,  if  the  characters  are  types  who  normally  ex- 
press themselves  in  this  way,  but  beyond  this  the  dialogue 
should  be  written  with  the  same  attention  to  its  Hterary 
aspects  as  is  given  to  the  artistic  production  of  the  pageant 
as  a  whole.  A  pageant  artistically  perfect  in  all  other 
respects,  but  with  badly  written  dialogue,  and  tediously 
or  clumsily  constructed  episodes,  will  not  achieve  any 
approximation  to  the  ideals  of  this  art. 

Characterization  can  be  of  only  a  fragmentary  nature 
in  the  brief  time  at  an  author's  disposal.  It  is  all  the  more 
necessary  for  him,  therefore,  to  conceive  his  figures  clearly 
in  his  own  mind.  When  only  a  few  strokes  can  be  used  to 
make  a  portrait,  it  is  essential  that  the  few  be  the  right 
ones.  If  the  character  is  vague,  or  ill  conceived  in  the 
portrayer's  mind,  the  strokes  will  be  chosen  at  random, 
and  they  will  fail  to  yield  any  accurate  picture  at  all. 
The  first  thing  to  consider,  of  course,  is  what  history  has 
told  about  the  character.  Next,  what  is  he  called  upon 
to  do  in  the  episode,  and  how  is  this  an  illustration  of  a 
certain  side  of  this  person's  individuahty.^  These  give 
the  fixed  points  from  which  his  character  can  be  con- 
structed for  the  purposes  of  the  episode.     There  will  be 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  61 

opportunity  to  show  only  the  side  of  the  character  which 
his  actions  in  the  episode  indicate;  therefore  all  other 
traits,  however  tempting  as  interesting  digressions,  had 
better  be  avoided.  For  example,  if  an  important  event 
tmned  upon  the  impulsiveness  of  a  certain  individual,  of 
whom  history  records  that  he  was  also  kind-hearted,  an 
excellent  friend,  and  a  man  fond  of  reading,  the  pageant 
author  will  fix  upon  the  impulsiveness  as  the  principal 
trait  to  show.  That  he  was  fond  of  reading  may  be 
eliminated,  nor  is  it  probable  that  his  kind  heart  and  his 
capacity  for  friendship  can  be  conveniently  shown  without 
wandering  too  far  from  the  point  of  the  episode.  SimpK- 
fication  of  character  is  a  necessary  limitation,  but  one 
which  makes  convincing  characterization  correspondingly 
difficult,  because  too  much  emphasis  upon  the  trait  chosen 
tends  to  dehumanize  the  character.  The  emphasis  should 
be  only  sufficient  to  make  clear  to  the  audience  the  prin- 
cipal motive  of  the  character's  actions.  If  one  trait  is 
reiterated  too  often,  or  too  much  insisted  upon,  the 
plausibiUty  of  the  depiction  will  suffer. 

Interludes  present  a  problem  analogous  to  that  of  the 
pictorial  episode,  in  that  they  depend  upon  color  and 
movement  primarily,  and  not  upon  dialogue  at  all.  An 
interlude,  as  has  been  said,  may  be  a  brief  allegory  stand- 
ing alone,  or  allegories  may  be  written  in  a  series  linked 
together  by  a  common  idea,  so  that  each  is  one  of  a 
sequence.  The  author  is  first  concerned  with  finding  his 
idea,  and  then  with  determining  whether  it  is  to  be  carried 
out  by  song  or  dance  or  by  a  combination  of  the  two. 
If  it  is  a  choral  interlude,  the  writing  of  the  verses  will 


62  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

require  time  and  thought.  The  music  director  should  be 
consulted  concerning  the  metre;  indeed  the  author  and 
the  musician  will  have  to  work  together  to  make  both 
the  words  and  music  appropriately  expressive  of  the  idea.^ 
It  is,  of  course,  easy  to  write  doggerel  verses  that  might 
pass  well  enough,  if  sung  by  a  large  chorus,  but  again 
this  is  not  the  way  in  which  any  of  the  details  of  pageantry 
should  be  carried  out.  Therefore,  unless  the  author  can 
write  fair  verse,  or  discover  someone  in  the  community 
who  can  come  to  his  assistance  in  this  matter,  the  choral 
interlude  ought  to  be  abandoned.  Unless  original  music 
may  be  composed,  a  choral  interlude  must  never  be  at- 
tempted. It  is  fatal  to  try  to  write  new  words  for  old 
music,  however  skilful  the  author. 

The  dance  interlude  is  the  one  likely  to  yield  the  best 
results.  This  is  constructed  by  consultation  with  the 
music  and  dance  directors.  It  is  imderstood,  of  course, 
that  the  pageant  master  is  also  included  in  the  counsels, 
but  as  he  is  often  the  author  himself,  it  has  not  been 
thought  necessary  to  refer  in  every  paragraph  to  his  share 
in  the  preparations.^  In  the  dance  interlude  it  is  the 
author's  task  to  furnish  the  idea,  and  it  is  the  business  of 
the  music  and  dance  directors  to  provide  music  and  dances 
which  will  best  express  this  idea.  The  point  is  that  the 
interlude  should  not  be  an  independent  unit,  merely  intro- 
duced to  vary  the  performance,  or  to  please  the  audience 
through  sound,  color,  and  movement.  The  interlude 
should  always  be  a  help  to  make  clear  the  meaning  of  the 
whole,    to   interpret   poetically   the   historical   scenes,    to 

*  See  Chap.  X,  Music.  '  See  Chap.  IX,  The  Dance. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  63 

reveal  to  the  audience  the  underlying  truth  of  things, 
which  facts  alone  are  not  able  to  do. 

Allegory  and  symbolism  are  the  chief  mediums  by  which 
underlying  truth  is  shown  forth.  A  word  or  two  con- 
cerning them  is  therefore  not  out  of  place.  Allegory  is  a 
jBgurative  representation  conveying  a  meaning  other  than, 
and  in  addition  to,  the  hteral.  Its  value  depends,  naturally, 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  author's  conception.  It  must 
be  imaginative  and  at  the  same  time  clear  to  the  average 
intelUgence.  If  too  obvious  or  trite,  it  misses  its  emotional 
effect,  the  fcehng  of  peculiar  appropriateness;  and,  if  too 
involved,  it  will  not  be  understood.  An  allegory  must  be 
consistent  throughout,  that  is  to  say,  it  must  not  repre- 
sent one  thing  at  the  beginning  and  another  at  the  end. 

Symbolism  aims  to  represent,  by  concrete  objects,  ideas 
which  can  actually  be  apprehended  only  by  the  mind. 
The  symbols  used  may  be  chosen  arbitrarily,  or  their  selec- 
tion may  be  governed  by  the  association  of  ideas.  Mediaeval 
artists  arbitrarily  symboHzed  the  church  as  a  ship  which 
carries  us  safely  over  the  sea  of  life.  The  symbol  became 
a  familiar  one.  This  ship,  with  St.  George  standing  in 
the  bow,  was  the  cover  design  for  the  program  of  the 
English  Church  Pageant,  and,  in  one  of  the  interludes,  the 
ship  appeared.  The  symbolism  of  peace  by  a  dove  is 
based  upon  the  association  of  ideas.  To  understand 
symboUsm  the  audience  must,  of  course,  know  what  ideas 
the  objects  symbolize.  There  are  perhaps  many  to-day 
who  are  unfamiliar  with  the  ship  as  a  symbol  of  the 
church,  whereas  the  symbol  of  the  cross  is  known  to  all. 
The  effectiveness  of  symbolism  depends  ujwn  the  audience's 


64         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

understanding  of  the  meanings  attached  by  the  author 
to  his  symbols. 

An  allegorical  interlude  is  a  sustained  grouping  of  sym- 
bols which  all  unite  to  express  a  single  theme.  Thus  the 
growth  of  a  city  may  be  symbohzed  by  a  veiled  figure 
which  gradually  reveals  itself.  The  various  steps  in  that 
growth  may  be  treated  as  an  allegory,  Agriculture  and 
Industry,  for  instance,  each  symbolized,  bringing  their 
gifts  (symbols  again)  to  the  feet  of  the  figure,  and  so  on. 
Many  of  the  old  morahty  plays  are  illustrative  of  dramatic 
allegory,  although  they  are  somewhat  too  didactic  and 
solemn  for  close  imitation.  The  ideas  and  qualities  repre- 
sented in  the  allegory  are  personified  and  their  actions 
symbolized.  Imagination  of  a  pecuharly  vivid  and  not 
of  a  hteral  kind  is  necessary  to  write  successful  allegory, 
even  as  simple  a  one  as  may  be  interpreted  by  a  single 
group  dance.  In  short,  unless  the  pageant  author  is 
willing  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  in  working  out  his 
ideas  in  the  form  of  allegories,  he  would  be  better  advised 
to  leave  the  whole  subject  alone. 

Allegory  and  symbolism  are  the  foundations  of  social, 
civic,  and  institutional  pageants.^  Even  if  the  pageant  of 
this  type  receives  historical  treatment,  the  idea  on  which 
it  is  founded  should  be  expressed  through  allegory.  For 
example,  an  author  wishes  to  write  a  Pageant  of  Education 
in  which  he  desires  to  show  the  historical  evolution  of  his 
subject.  Education  is  an  abstraction,  not  a  concrete 
object.  It  is  even  more  of  an  abstraction  than  the  con- 
cept of  a  city  as  an  individual.  His  first  concern  then  is 
with  the  problem  of  representing  this  abstraction  —  how 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  65 

is  it  to  be  symbolized?  Next  in  order  comes  the  building 
of  an  allegory  in  which  Education  and  its  purposes  are 
the  central  figures.  The  actual  historical  evolution  is  a 
simple  thing  to  manage,  compared  with  the  difficulty  of 
hitting  upon  a  truly  poetical  interpretation  of  the  main 
idea.  It  is  easy  enough  to  arrange  episodes  beginning 
with  the  making  of  clay  tablets  in  Assyria,  showing 
Cadmus  giving  letters  to  the  Greeks,  presenting  students 
in  the  grove  of  Academe,  and  so  on.  But  how  is  he  to 
end,  and  what  shall  the  pageant  as  a  whole  mean?  The 
solution  must  be  worked  out  by  allegorical  means.  Thus 
Education  may  be  shown  creating  Civilization,  or  be 
interpreted  as  the  giver  of  Liberty  to  the  People.  But 
unless  he  sees  clearly  at  the  outset  where  the  episodes 
are  to  carry  his  idea,  his  finished  structure  will  not  em- 
body any  precise  meaning.  As  another  illustration,  take 
an  even  less  specific  theme,  such  as  fire.  The  author 
first  seeks  for  a  conception  of  the  theme  that  will  lend 
itself  to  dramatic  treatment.  Let  us  suppose  that  he 
finally  settles  on  the  rather  obvious  idea  of  fire  as  the  forger 
of  material  progess.  The  pageant  will  then  be  centred 
on  making  clear  this  idea.  It  could  begin  with  an  episode 
of  Prometheus'  theft  of  fire  from  heaven  —  itself  an 
allegory  —  or  with  a  more  literal  scene  in  which  savages 
are  shown  rubbing  sticks  together.  Then  could  follow  the 
discovery  of  the  use  of  metals  —  man  again  helped  by 
fire  to  another  step  forward  in  his  manner  of  living  — 
until  the  whole  pageant  is  brought  down  to  the  great  blast 
furnace  of  modern  times.  The  last  scene  of  all  would 
show  Fire  the  central  figure  of  modern  life  with  all  the 


66        COMMUMITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

manifold  activities  of  man  dependent  upon  it  for  their 
existence.  Enough  has  been  said  to  show  the  advantages 
of  allegory  and  something  of  its  perils.  SymboUsm  must 
always  work  hand  in  hand  with  it,  or  the  result  is  only 
tedium. 

Community  drama  belongs  more  propierly  to  the  realm 
of  dramatic  technique,  and  space,  therefore,  forbids  more 
than  passing  mention  of  its  structural  problems.  A  drama 
differs  from  a  narrative  in  certain  important  particulars. 
In  drama  the  hero,  leading  character,  or  protagonist  — 
call  him  what  you  will  —  is  confronted  with  one  specific 
task  which  he  sets  out  to  accomplish,  or  else  fails  to  ac- 
complish. In  a  narrative  he  may  do  several  things,  of 
relative  degrees  of  importance,  and  the  story  may  cover 
the  entire  term  of  his  life.  The  dramatic  hero,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  one  thing  to  do,  or  to  strive  to  do,  and 
everything  else  is  subordinate  to  that  one  thing.  The 
drama  sets  forth  the  nature  of  the  task,  why  the  hero 
must  seek  to  accomplish  it,  how  he  did  or  did  not  do  it, 
and  briefly  the  consequences  to  him  of  his  attempt.  The 
structure  of  the  play  is  therefore  more  clearly  marked  and 
precisely  defined  than  that  of  the  narrative.  It  may  not 
wander  into  by-paths  and  digressions,  as  may  the  romantic 
story,  nor  must  it  take  too  long  in  the  telling.  Further- 
more, since  the  hero  is  limited  to  one  principal  object, 
he  may  not  spread  out  his  effort  over  too  long  a  space  of 
supposed  time,  or  interest  will  flag. 

Again,  the  nature  of  the  hero's  task,  while  sufficiently 
complex,  is,  unlike  the  story,  confined  to  a  certain  kind 
of  effort.     First  and  foremost,  his  actions  must   be  the 


WRITING  THE  PAGEAJVT  BOOK  67 

working  out  of  his  own  will.  He  may  not  be  passive, 
as  in  the  story,  but  must  act  or  try  to  act,  and  that  in  a 
way  fuUy  conscious  of  what  he  wishes  to  accomplish. 
His  actions  may  have  as  desired  end  the  overcoming  of 
an  obstacle  which  circumstances  or  other  human  wills 
have  placed  in  his  path,  but  he  may  at  no  time  avail 
himself  of  chance  to  find  the  solution.  It  may  be  chance 
that  has  brought  him  into  the  conflict,  but  once  there,  his 
will  alone  must  determine  the  issue.  The  essence  of  the 
drama  is  what  the  hero  does,  right  or  wrong,  in  his  en- 
deavors to  overcome  the  obstacle  and  thus  win  the  con- 
flict. The  struggle  through  which  he  passes  wiU  alter  his 
character,  else  has  the  play  been  written  to  no  purpose. 
If  he  emerges  the  same  man  that  he  was  in  the  beginning, 
the  crisis  of  his  life  wiU  have  taught  him  nothing,  and  the 
audience  wiU  quite  naturaUy  ask  themselves  what  aU  the 
pother  was  about. 

It  wiU  thus  be  seen  that  the  plot  or  story  of  a  play  is 
constructed  on  a  principle  less  fluid  and  yielding  than 
that  of  the  novel.  The  emphasis  which  the  author  puts 
upon  the  difi'erent  elements  of  his  drama  wiU  result  in 
plays  apparently  built  in  several  ways.  It  is  useful  to 
summarize  as  briefly  as  possible  the  methods  which  may 
be  followed  in  plot  emphasis,  since  it  is  more  often  in 
fundamentals  that  the  student  of  drama  goes  astray.^ 

'  It  is  useful  to  remember  Richard  Wajfner's  words:  "The  public  art 
of  the  Greeks,  which  reached  it«  zenith  in  their  Tragedy,  was  the  expression 
of  the  deepest  and  the  noblest  principles  of  the  people's  consciousness." 
Vol.  I,  p.  /|7,  Arl  and  Revolution,  transl.  by  William  Ashton  Ellis.  Drama 
properly  is  always  this  reflection  of  the  l)est  consciousness  of  one's  genera- 
tion;   and  this  must  be  remembered  in  the  search  for  plot  material. 


COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 


1.  The  story  play.  At  first  sight  it  might  seem  that  in 
a  story  play  the  author  simply  threw  his  narrative  into 
dialogue,  cut  it  up  into  acts,  and  put  it  upon  the  stage. 
And  it  is  true  in  this  sense:  what  the  author  is  chiefly 
concerned  with  here  is  in  telling  an  interesting  dramatic 
story.  The  important  elements  are  the  incidents  and 
situations,  and  the  characters  are  more  or  less  subordinate 
to  the  sequence  of  thrilling  occurrences.  But  to  be  dra- 
matic, such  a  play  must  make  use  of  the  kind  of  story 
which  has  already  been  described  as  that  suitable  for  the 
stage.  It  must  have  one  main  thread  and  confine  itself 
to  that.  The  course  of  the  story  is  guided  by  the  hero, 
even  though  the  external  events  that  result  are  given  more 
attention  than  the  effect  of  these  things  upon  the  hero's 
character.  A  play  dealing  with  an  Indian  legend,  in  which 
the  hero's  adventures  were  limited  to  a  single  exploit, 
would  be  an  example  of  this  type  of  drama.  There  is 
no  searching  analysis  of  character  in  conflict  with  moral 
law,  no  social  question  at  issue  —  simply  and  frankly  a 
series  of  exciting  adventures  in  which  one  character  is 
prominent.  This  type  of  play  is  best  suited  to  outdoors 
and  to  large  stages.^ 

2.  The  character  play.  Contrary  to  the  first  type 
enumerated,  the  dramatist's  aim  in  this  case  is  to  analyze 
and  portray  character,  particularly  that  of  the  hero.  The 
main  interest  in  the  drama  is  in  what  passes  in  the  hero's 
mind,  and  the  alterations  which  occur  there.^  It  is  a  much 
more  difficult  type  to  write,  because  it  requires  of  the 

»  See  Chap.  II,  Types. 

'  Such  plays  are  Disraeli,  Louis  XI,  and  Richelieu. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  69 

author  profound  skill  in  character  portrayal,  nor  is  it 
easy  to  make  the  plot  dramatic  without  allowing  the 
external  circumstances  to  overshadow  the  inner  drama. 
It  is  hardly  possible  to  use  such  a  play  in  the  open  air. 
The  subtleties  of  the  characterization  and  the  dehcacy 
necessary  to  obtain  the  requisite  effects  alike  demand  not 
only  an  indoor  stage  but  an  intimate  stage.  Finally,  the 
acting  required  in  such  a  play  is  often  beyond  the  compass 
of  amateur  work. 

3.  The  theme  play.  This  is  the  kind  of  play  called  by 
the  French  the  piece-a-these}  In  it  the  author  sets  out 
with  a  definite  text  or  doctrine,  around  which  he  con- 
structs a  story  designed  to  illustrate  his  theme.  The  char- 
acters and  their  actions  are  more  or  less  links  in  a  logical 
chain  of  evidence,  and  hence  have  only  a  measured  amount 
of  freedom  and  spontaneity.  The  equation  must  evalu- 
ate itself  as  the  author  intended.  The  text  must  be  proved 
and  the  characters  exist  only  for  this  purpose.  There 
is  naturally  some  loss  of  humanity  if  human  beings  are 
treated  as  terms  in  a  syllogism;  and  so  the  chief  error  of 
this  type  of  drama  is  that  it  often  falsifies  life  in  trying 
to  prove  a  theory  of  life.  It  may  also  turn  out  to  be  only 
a  sermon  in  disguise  —  not  a  fault  in  itself,  but  one  so  far 
as  the  confounding  of  these  two  forms  of  art  ends  in  the 
creation  neither  of  one  nor  of  the  other.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  sermonizing  is  kept  to  its  proper  place  — 
namely  to  certain  inferences  which  the  audience  are  left 
free  to  make  or  not,  as  they  see  fit,  —  if  the  characterization 
is  true  and  faithful,  and  the  plot  probable,  the  result  will 

'  Cf.,  for  example,  the  plays  of  Eugene  Brieiu. 


70         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

be  a  modern  play  of  value  and  interest.  It  will  not,  how- 
ever, be  the  work  of  a  new  or  inexperienced  dramatist, 
since  it  requires  a  knowledge  not  only  of  dramatic  tech- 
nique but  of  life  itself  which  is  not  at  the  command  of 
the  novice  in  either.  The  chief  reason  for  dwelling  upon 
it  in  this  chapter  is  that  it  is  a  form  of  play  construction 
that  often  attracts  the  serious-minded  beginner,  but  in 
its  realistic  aspects,  as  a  criticism  of  modern  life,  it  belongs 
to  the  indoor  theatre  and  to  the  skilled  dramatist.  None 
other  may  hope  to  master  its  technical  difficulties. 

li.  The  play  of  idea.  The  last  general  type  to  be  enu- 
merated is  the  broadest  of  these  four  classifications,  the 
one  most  difficult  to  pin  down  to  a  precise  definition.  But 
as  in  historical  pageantry  and  in  dramatic  allegory  the 
value  of  a  central  idea  was  pointed  out,  so  is  an  idea 
necessary  to  a  play.  A  dramatic  story  standing  by  itself 
may  interest  and  entertain,  yet  it  will  leave  nothing  be- 
hind it,  if  the  teUing  of  the  story  was  its  only  reason  for 
existence.  Equally  does  the  play  of  character-emphasis, 
however  skilfully  character  development  may  be  shown, 
avail  but  httle  without  ultimate  artistic  purpose.  The 
thesis  play  alone  may  be  said  to  be  a  play  in  which  pur- 
pose is  sometimes  emphasized  to  excess. 

Since  an  idea  play  may  be  found  under  i  and  imder  2, 
while  3  has  been  described  as  a  possible  over-emphasis 
of  the  type,  how  is  it  that  it  is  listed  in  a  separate  classi- 
fication? In  the  first  place,  these  classifications  are  not 
hard  and  fast  divisions,  shutting  off  one  kind  of  drama 
from  another;  they  are  based  rather  upon  plot-emphasis, 
upon  the  general  tendency  shown  by  the  plot  treatment. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  71 

Hence  overlapping  from  one  to  the  other  is  to  be  expected. 
Any  exact  separation  would  leave  a  host  of  exceptions  in 
an  unclassified  limbo.  Therefore  neither  story  plays  nor 
character-emphasized  plays  are  excluded  from  having  ideas 
hidden  away  in  them,  and  the  artistically  written  thesis 
play  may  even  be  a  perfect  example  of  the  idea  play.* 
Nevertheless  there  is  need  for  making  a  distinction  between 
the  kind  of  idea-emphasis  found,  say,  in  Brieux'  Three 
Daughters  of  M.  Dupont  and  in  Ibsen's  The  DolVs  House. 
The  former  is  an  elaborate  and  logical  illustration  of  three 
possible  phases  of  the  marriage  question;  the  latter,  a 
question  of  marriage  worked  out  in  terms  of  human 
emotions.  One  is  mathematical,  exact;  the  other,  life- 
like. One  contains  a  thesis,  the  other  an  idea.  Perhaps 
no  definition  can  adequately  convey  the  distinction,  which 
is  possibly  merely  a  matter  of  individual  preference  or 
conviction,  but  an  idea  for  a  play  is  the  crystallized  core 
for  a  commentary  upon  life,  whereas  there  is  also  implied 
in  the  thesis  play  the  demand  for  a  remedy.  The  writer  of 
the  idea  play  sets  naught  down  in  mahce;  he  records  what 
he  has  seen,  reinterpreted  in  the  light  of  his  imagination. 
The  thesis  playwright  sets  all  down  in  mahce,  even  when 
he  most  strives  to  be  fair,  since  he  asks  us  to  agree  with 
his  theory,  and  therefore  must  prove  himself  in  the  right 
and  fife  in  the  wrong.  For  this  reason  a  separate  classi- 
fication for  the  idea  play  is  made. 

In  all  of  this  nothing  has  been  said  about  comedy  and 
tragedy ,2  melodrama  and  farce,  and  the  other  ever  widen- 

•  Cf.,  for  example,  Galsworthy's  Strife,  or  Granville  Barker's  WasU. 

*  For  the  best  account  of  Renaissance  theory  of  comedy  and  tragedy, 
and  its  relation  to  Aristotle's  poetics,  see  Chap.   VI  of  J.   E.  SprinKam's 


72         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

ing  categories  of  modern  drama.  To  enter  into  the  dif- 
ferences in  technique  between  these  would  require  a 
volume.  Community  drama  will  not  be  concerned  at 
first  with  too  elaborate  an  analysis  of  types.  Whether 
an  author  writes  comedy  or  tragedy,  his  plot  emphasis 
will  fall  imder  one,  or  partly  under  one,  of  the  four  general 
classifications  already  referred  to.  The  story  play  based 
upon  an  idea  will  suffice  for  most  ventures  to  be  under- 
taken by  new-comers.  The  plot  treatment  may  be  serious, 
tragic,  or  comic,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  story. 
This  word  of  caution  might  be  added,  that  true  tragedy 
can  be  written,  if  it  can  be  written  at  all  to-day,  only 
after  the  full  maturing  of  an  author's  powers  and  experi- 
ences. It  has  not  been  considered  advisable,  therefore, 
in  a  book  which  aims  merely  to  encourage  experiment  and 
to  offer  suggestions  to  the  amateur  spirit  in  drama,  to 
enter  into  critical  discussions  concerning  the  nature  of 
comedy  or  tragedy.  The  shelves  of  any  library  stand  ready 
to  furnish  such  argument  in  copious  measure. 

One  or  two  other  critical  questions  of  a  general  nature, 
however,  should  be  referred  to  in  closing  this  chapter. 
Throughout  this  book  the  necessity  for  unity  in  all  aspects 
of  the  production  is  constantly  mentioned.  In  writing 
the  text,  imity  must  be  the  keystone  of  the  fabric.  Dra- 
matic unity,  whether  attained  in  historical  pageantry, 
comedy,  tragedy,  farce,  or  allegory,  is  of  a  twofold  nature. 
There  is  the  unity  of  idea  which  binds  the  whole  together; 

A  History  of  Literary  Criticism  in  the  Renaissance.  This  will  give  something 
of  the  backgroiind  needed  in  formulating  any  modem  theory  of  comedy  and 
tragedy.  The  bibliography  suggests  a  number  of  sources  for  detailed  study 
of  the  dramatic  theories. 


WRITING  THE  PAGEANT  BOOK  73 

and  there  is  the  unity  of  tone  or  mood  which  governs  the 
treatment.  Both  are  of  supreme  importance  in  anything 
pretending  to  be  a  work  of  art.  Unity  in  historical  pa- 
geantry is  sought,  as  has  been  said,  by  linking  all  the  diverse 
historical  episodes  to  a  central  idea.  IJnity  of  tone  is^ 
secured  by  carrying  out  the  treatment  of  the  pageant, 
particularly  in  the  interludes,  in  a  mood  which  is  expres- 
sive  of  the  central  idea.  This  does  not  forbid  variety;  it 
simply  means  that  pervading  the  whole  there  shall  be  a 
feehng  of  one  prevailing  mood  and  purpose.  It  may  be 
reheved,  contrasted,  hghtened,  and  otherwise  varied  at 
the  author's  will,  provided  his  proportions  are  kept  in  due 
relation  to  the  main  theme.  The  same  is  true  of  any 
form  of  the  drama.  There  is  the  unity  of  plot  which 
requires  that  the  story  deal  with  one  important  event  in 
the  life  of  the  hero,  with  all  minor  incidents  subordinate 
to  it;  and  there  is  the  unity  of  treatment  which  impresses 
upon  the  audience  the  nature  of  story  they  are  witnessing, 
whether  somber,  gay,  fantastic,  and  so  on. 

The  treatment  of  the  plot  may  again  be  classified  under 
two  broad  general  heads.  One  is  the  so-called  reahstic 
method,  the  other  the  romantic.  It  is  of  course  impossible 
to  do  more  in  a  brief  paragraph  than  point  out  the  super- 
ficisd  distinction,  as  commonly  recognized,  between  these 
two.  In  the  realistic  method  the  details  of  the  plot  and 
dialogue  are  imitated  from  real  life.  In  a  historical  episode, 
for  example,  what  is  aimed  at  is  an  illusion  of  the  life  of 
the  times,  sufficiently  accurate  in  customs,  dialogue,  and 
happenings  to  seem  a  picture  from  the  period  represented. 
A  play  which  deals  with  corresponding  accuracy  towards 


74  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

the  details  of  modem  life  is  also  said  to  be  realistic.  The 
romantic  treatment,  on  the  other  hand,  tinges  the  whole 
with  imagination;  the  details  are  not  faithful  imitations 
of  a  Ufe  that  was,  or  is,  but  of  a  life  that  might  be  in  some 
realm  where  poetry  rather  than  fact  governs  our  spirit. 
Qiaracter  and  events  are  all  idealized,  lifted  above  the 
plane  of  reality.  Thus,  in  historical  pageantry  the  inter- 
ludes are  treated  in  the  romantic  spirit,  as  must  be  the 
case  with  allegory,  while  realism,  or  what  is  conceived  to 
be  realism  but  is  only  an  approximation  after  all,  is  left 
for  the  historical  scenes. 

Thus  the  mood  or  tone  of  a  dramatic  work  is  likewise 
a  twofold  thing.  It  is  grave  or  gay,  fantastic  or  tinged 
with  horror,  as  the  nature  of  the  story  suggests,  and  it  is 
also  either  realistic  or  romantic  according  as  the  details 
of  the  plot  are  chosen  from  facts  or  from  the  imagination. 

The  object  in  referring  to  so  many  and  diverse  matters 
of  critical  theory  is  to  remind  the  writer  who  first  begins 
to  use  any  form  of  the  drama  as  a  medium  for  his  art 
that  to  be  successful,  in  the  true  sense  of  this  term,  he 
must  have  an  artistic  purpose.  This  purpose  is  something 
more  than  the  desire  to  prepare  a  dramatic  spectacle  for 
a  given  occasion.  It  should  also  include  a  consciousness 
of  his  aims  and  the  methods  he  intends  to  employ  in 
attaining  them.  Only  thus  can  his  work  possess  that  unity 
which  is  essential  to  art.^    , 

'  It  is  expected  that  the  student  in  reading  this  chapter  will  make  full  use 
of  the  bibliography  on  dreunatic  technique. 


Chapter  IV 
PRODUCTION 

"Tous  thedtres  sont  theatres"     (Mile.  Legrand,  1781.) 

PRODUCTION,  as  the  term  is  used  in  pageantry  and 
community  drama,  is  the  art  of  putting  a  dramatic 
spectacle  on  the  stage.  The  process  of  production  is  that 
of  welding  together  into  a  single  jfinished  piece  of  work 
all  the  diverse  and  complex  elements  out  of  which  the 
spectacle  is  to  be  formed.^  Even  the  simplest  play,  given 
by  amateurs  in  a  village  hall,  demands  for  its  production 
more  than  a  text  and  a  collection  of  people  who  have 
memorized  the  words.  As  for  a  historical  pageant  on  a 
large  scale,  the  labor  and  skill  required  to  fuse  so  refractory 
a  compound  may  not  easily  be  imagined  without  actual 
experience.  The  principles  on  which  production  rests  are 
not  difficult  to  enumerate,  but  they  may  be  successfully 
carried  out  only  after  many  experiments,  failures,  and 
tolerable  approximations  to  the  ideal.  Each  production 
teaches  new  secrets,  for,  after  it  has  been  staged,  the 
producer  sees  for  the  first  time  how  he  might  have  suc- 
ceeded. It  is  this  very  impossibility  of  reaching  the 
goal  of  an  ideal  performance  that  makes  production  so 
fascinating  an  art. 

*  Cf.  Adolph  Appia:  "In  every  work  of  art  harmony  should  reif^  be- 
tween the  conception  of  the  work  and  '\\s  re-alization."  {Die  Musik  und 
die  Inscenierung.)  "Insccniening"  is  the  Gennan  equivalent  of  the  word 
"production." 


76         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

The  three  fundamental  principles  of  £iny  dramatic  pro- 
duction are:  sound,  light,  and  movement.^  These  three 
headings  include  all  the  diverse  elements  which  must  be 
harmonized  with  each  other  in  order  truly  to  convey  the 
idea  and  spirit  of  a  given  performance.  Each  of  them 
possesses  a  number  of  subdivisions.  Under  sound  are 
included  the  spoken  words,  song,  and  orchestral  music. 
Under  hght  is  found  color,  and  hence  costuming,  as  well 
as  the  static  elements,  such  as  the  setting  and  tableaux. 
Movement  comprises  gesture  and  acting,  grouping,  the 
dance,  and  the  larger  sweep  of  the  performance  considered 
as  a  whole.  These  three  elements  in  turn  are  governed 
by  the  mood  and  tone  of  the  text,  both  in  individual  scenes 
and  throughout  the  production. 

The  purpose  of  blending  together  these  three  funda- 
mentals of  sound,  hght,  and  movement  is  not  simply  to 
produce  something  beautiful  in  itself,  but  to  reveal  the 
soul  or  true  meaning  of  a  play.^  This  can  only  be  done 
if  the  author's  idea  is  properly  clothed,  as  Jacques  Rouche ' 
has  expressed  it.  The  production  of  a  play  ought  neither 
to    distort    it  nor  to  overweight  it,   but  to  show  forth 

1  In  one  sense  the  movement  itself  includes  the  distribution  and  harmony 
of  lines  and  colors,  which  are  tdso  functions  of  hght.  Wagner's  classifica- 
tion—  dance,  tone  and  poetry  (see  The  Art-Work  of  the  Future)  —  is  more 
abstract.  It  has  not  been  followed  here,  because  the  purpose  of  this  chapter 
is  practical  rather  than  theoretical.  But  a  study  of  Wagner's  theories  is 
essential  to  all  interested  in  the  modem  drama.  For  an  excellent  summary 
of  the  evolution  of  modern  "  Inscenierung,"  see  H.  K.  Moderwell's  The 
Theatre  of  To-day,  Chap.  III. 

*  Since  what  is  said  about  general  principles  appUes  with  equal  force  to 
pageantry  and  to  the  drama,  the  more  convenient  word  "play"  is  used  as 
applying  to  all  forms  of  spectacle. 

»  Regisseur  (producer)  at  the  Paris  Opera.   See  his  UArt  Theatrdle  Moderne. 


PRODUCTION  77 


clearly  its  individual  characteristics  and  beauty.  For 
example,  to  take  the  simplest  cases  of  difference,  it  is 
obvious  that  a  tragedy  and  a  comedy,  a  serious  historic 
pageant  and  a  merry  midsummer  festival,  should  not 
receive  the  same  treatment.  ^  But  the  matter  is  even  more 
far-reaching  than  this.  Every  dramatic  work  has  a  spirit 
of  its  own,  which  it  is  the  producer's  endeavor  to  show.^ 
These  differences,  of  course,  occur  in  the  work  of  the  same 
author.  Maeterhnck's  The  Blue  Bird  and  his  Pelleas  et 
MSlisande  require  a  totally  different  method  of  approach. 
No  two  historical  pageants,  even,  may  be  produced  in 
the  same  way,  for  the  simple  reason  that  no  two  com- 
munities possess  the  same  individuahty. 

To  catch  the  spirit  of  the  production  and  to  put  this 
spirit  on  the  stage  is  of  vastly  more  importance  than  to 
slave  after  hteral  accm-acies  of  detail.  Mr.  W.  B.  Yeats 
once  said^  that  a  certain  producer's  idea  of  reahsm  was 
to  place  potted  primroses  along  the  banks  of  a  stage 
brook.  So  intangible  a  thing  as  the  idea  or  spirit  of  a 
play  can  be  shown  only  by  creating  in  the  minds  of  the 
audience  a  particular  illusion.  Every  detail  which  in- 
trudes a  literal  reahty  into  this  illusion  breaks  the  spell.* 
A  potted  prinu-ose  will  seem,  on  the  stage,  a  primrose, 
and  nothing  more.     That  is  why  decorative  values  take 

'  Even  the  platform  stage  of  the  EHizaibethans  was  hung  with  black 
for  the  representation  of  a  tragedy. 

'  Le  regisseur  "est  le  lien  unissanl  VSune  de  rauieur  et  VAme  de  rartiste." 
(M.  Ivanov.) 

•  In  a  conversation  with  the  writers  of  this  chapter. 

*  Cf.  the  excellent  comment  of  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  on  stage  illusion, 
in  his  Preface  to  Shakespeare.  Also  Hichard  Wagner:  "The  Artist  addresses 
himself  to  the  Feeling,  and  not  to  the  Understanding."  {A  Communicalion 
to  My  Friends,  p.  271.) 


78  COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

precedence  over  attempts  at  archaeological  accuracy  even 
in  historic  scenes.  The  art  of  creating  illusion  is  the  art 
of  suggestion;  more  can  be  told  concerning  inner  truths 
by  means  of  suggestion  than  by  accuracy  however  studied. 
Mr.  Pennell's  drawings  of  the  Panama  Canal  are  to  be 
preferred  to  photographic  snap-shots  of  this  subject;  in 
fact  they  are  more  enjoyable  than  the  heat  and  glare  of 
the  isthmus  itself.  The  producer  indeed  is  confronted 
with  the  age-old  problem  of  the  artist  —  how  shall  truth 
be  represented?  —  and  back  of  that,  what  is  truth? 

The  various  elements  of  a  dramatic  production  which 
are  included  under  the  fundamentals  of  soimd,  Ught,  and 
movement  will  be  discussed  in  detail  in  later  chapters. 
The  object  of  this  chapter  is  to  describe  some  of  the 
practical  questions  associated  with  differing  types  of 
stages,  and  to  show  how  these  questions  assist,  modify, 
or  limit  the  art  of  production. 

To  come  at  his  problem  more  directly,  the  first  task  of 
the  producer  is  to  study  his  text.  In  pageantry  it  often 
happens  that  producer  and  author  are  one  and  the  same 
person,  a  most  happy  combination  of  circumstances  when 
this  is  true.  His  study  should  reveal  to  him  the  spirit 
in  which  the  production  is  to  be  worked  out,  and  all  his 
plans  should  then  be  laid  accordingly.  Sound,  fight,  and 
movement  are  conceived  in  terms  harmonious  with  the 
central  idea.  What  is  the  iUusion  to  be  created  in  the 
minds  of  the  spectators  and  how  can  all  the  details  be 
made  to  serve  this  illusion?  ^    In  any  form  of  drama  what 

*  Cf.  Gordon  Craig:  "Do  not  look  first  at  Nature,  look  in  the  play  of 
the  poet." 


PRODUCTION  79 


the  audience  see  the  actors  do  and  hear  them  say  are  the 
matters  of  supreme  importance.  The  illusion  aimed  at 
will  vary  according  to  the  spirit  of  the  drama.  For  ex- 
ample, the  romantic  atmosphere  of,  say,  Don  Csesar  de 
Bazar  strives  to  create  a  totally  different  illusion  from 
that  of  a  modem  realistic  play.^  In  each  case  all  the 
details  have  as  object  the  emphasizing  of  the  performers. 
The  figures  must  stand  out  and  not  be  overshadowed  by 
the  setting,  by  sheer  gorgeousness  of  raiment,  or  by  any- 
thing else  which  would  detract  from  the  actors  themselves. 
The  attention  of  the  audience  ought  to  be  absorbed  by 
the  words  and  action.  The  audience  should  feel  that  they 
are  sharers  in  feeling  and  spirit  with  what  they  see.  Even 
the  least  of  the  effects,  therefore,  is  calculated  to  achieve 
this  end.  The  audience  constitute  the  one  factor  of 
which  the  producer  must  never  lose  sight.  He  is  work- 
ing, not  to  please  himself,  but  to  please  them.  Last  of 
all,  the  problems  of  production,  as  far  as  practical  matters 
go,  are  two  very  different  things  outdoors  and  in.  Hence 
it  will  be  necessary  to  take  them  up  separately. 

Proportion  "^  is  difficult  of  attainment  outdoors  no  less 
than  in.  On  a  large  open-air  stage  a  few  figures  easily 
seem  lost  —  words  do  not  carry  across  all  the  space  at 
the  producer's  command  —  and  in  daytime-performances 
there  is  no  possibility  of  varying  the  fighting  and  thus  of 
using   artificial   means  to  reduce  the  scale  when  desired. 

*  Theatrical  illusion  does  not  mean  that  we  mistake  a  stage  for  some- 
thing else,  but  that  we  become  so  absorbed  in  what  we  see  passing  there 
that  the  world  of  reality  ceases  to  intrude  itself  upon  our  senses. 

'  Proportion  is  a  question  involving  the  composition  of  the  individuals 
and  groups,  as  well  as  a  matter  of  scale.     See  Chap.  VI,  Grouping. 


80         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

The  plan  of  the  stage,  drawn  to  scale,  is  divided  by 
imaginary  lines  transversely  into  three  parts.  The  back 
portion  includes  the  far  perspective;  the  central  section, 
a  convenient  middle-ground  of  area  greater  than  the  other 
two,  and  the  foregound  constitutes  the  intimate  stage 
nearest  the  audience,  where  most  of  the  dialogue  should 
be  spoken.  Unlike  the  indoor  stage  set  with  scenery,  this 
stage  does  not  narrow  toward  the  rear,  with  the  result 
that  the  shape  of  the  acting  area  does  not  correspond  with 
that  of  the  professional  theatre.  On  such  a  tri-partite 
stage,  which  further  may  be  of  irregular  shape,  the  pro- 
ducer makes  his  tentative  plans  for  the  acting  of  the 
successive  scenes.  Each  of  these  three  stages  has  its 
centre  of  focus.  This  must  be  borne  in  mind  in  order 
that  correct  proportion  in  disposing  the  scenes  will  be 
attained.^ 

On  the  far  stage  detail  is  lost,  and  color  is  somewhat 
dimmed;  mass  and  line  alone  remain.  The  middle-ground 
blurs  some  of  the  details;  facial  expression  vanishes 
here,  but  color  contrasts  are  still  sharp.  The  fore-stage 
yields  a  bold  rehef  in  strong  sunhght  with  nearly  all  the 
detail  and  clearness  of  an  indoor  theatre,  with  facial 
expression  alone  diminished,  since  the  distance  from  the 
audience  is  still  comparatively  remote.  The  further  back 
the  figures  stand  upon  the  stage,  the  more  effective  are 
sheer  numbers  of  performers.  On  the  other  hand,  indi- 
viduals who  have  important  r6les  are  kept  well  forward. 

^  It  must  not  be  overlooked  that  the  audience  look  down  upon  the 
stage  in  the  average  outdoor  theatre,  since  the  seats  are  arranged  in  the 
form  of  an  amphitheatre.  This  fact,  again,  has  an  influence  upon  the  dis- 
position of  the  scenes. 


PRODUCTION  81 


These  considerations  determine  the  main  hnes  on  which 
the  action  must  be  handled. 

Obviously  one  of  the  first  essentials  is  to  plan  for  as 
much  variety  as  possible  in  the  use  of  these  three  divisions 
of  the  stage.  Too  many  scenes  must  not  succeed  one 
another  in  the  same  place.  Too  many  scenes  alike  in 
action  and  idea  must  not  follow  one  another.  But  how 
if  the  text  calls  for  this  monotonous  repetition?  There  is 
only  one  answer:  the  producer  must  demand  that  the 
text  be  rewritten.  This,  it  will  be  assumed,  may  happen 
often  when  the  pageant  or  play  is  the  work  of  an  amateur 
or  an  inexperienced  playwright.  In  revising  any  play  or 
pageant  there  i*^ne  thing  the  producer  will  do  well  to 
note.  Ntf  play  written  for  an  indoor  stage  can  be  trans- 
ferred artistically  to  the  open  air,  be  it  simple  comedy  or 
pageant  drama.  The  open  air  requires  scale,  feeling, 
and  movement  so  different  from  the  theatre  that  there 
are  not  many  plays  in  the  standard  repertoire  of  Enghsh 
drama  since  Elizabethan  times  that  can  be  successfully 
played  in  the  open  air.  The  fact  that  many  well-known 
plays  are  so  produced  does  not  alter  the  value  of  this  state- 
ment. Usually  such  attempts  at  production  have  only  to  be 
seen  to  have  the  truth  of  this  borne  in  upon  one's  mind. 

If  a  dramatic  work  of  art  is  to  be  produced  in  the  open 
car,  the  producer  demands  a  play  written  for  an  outdoor 
stage,  and  thus  a  work  all  ready  for  his  hand.  Further, 
since  outdoor  stages,  except  of  the  Greek  type,'  are  never 

*  Production  as  applied  to  modem  Greek  open-air  stages  has  not  been 
considered  in  this  chapter,  since  the  matter  ia  one  of  professional  rather 
than  of  amateur  interest. 


82         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

twice  alike  in  area  or  in  setting,  the  producer's  task  is 
usually  still  more  simplified  for  him,  because  the  play  or 
pageant  has  been  written  to  fit  the  particular  stage  on 
which  it  is  to  be  shown.  When  this  is  the  case  both  author 
and  producer  should  aim  to  utilize  to  the  full  the  pecu- 
liarities of  the  special  ground  chosen  for  the  stage.  There- 
fore, in  considering  the  succession  of  scenes  upon  his 
triply  divided  stage,  the  nature  of  the  background  and 
the  character  of  the  middle-ground  are  examined  to  see 
how  they  can  help  to  realize  the  action.  If  the  back- 
ground is  a  far-off  vista,  then  one  of  the  entrances  (in 
the  technical  sense)  to  the  stage  should  be  up  this  vista.^ 
If  it  is  a  steep  hill,  or  rocky  cliff,  action  of  a  pictorial 
nature  can  pass  there.^  Again,  rocks  and  shrubbery  on 
the  middle-ground  will  give  the  producer  many  hints  for 
varying  both  action  and  grouping.  The  fore-stage  needs 
to  be  quite  clear  of  natural  obstructions.  This  should  be 
made  as  level  as  possible,  or  be  allowed  to  slope  gently 
toward  the  audience,  for  here  the  dancers  and  the  actors 
who  speak  do  most  of  their  work.' 

A  few  examples  of  how  action  may  be  planned  to  suit 
the  stage  will  be  offered  as  suggestions.  For  instance,  if 
the  background  is  a  distant  view,  some  of  the  episodes 
may  end  with  the  performers  gradually  disappearing,  the 
figures  growing  fainter  and  fainter  in  the  far  perspective. 

*  Cf.  the  illustration,  p.  82,  of  the  Dell  Theatre  at  the  Hill  School. 

*  Ibid.,  p.  100,  of  the  Dartmouth  Open-air  Theatre. 

*  The  custom  sometimes  followed  of  building  a  wooden  platform  on  the 
foregroimd  is  not  to  be  imitated.  Not  only  does  such  a  platform,  even  if 
marked  with  shrubbery,  tend  to  destroy  the  illusion,  but  it  brings  to  the 
outdoor  stage  the  very  disadvantages  of  the  indoor  stage  which  open-tiir 
drama  should  seek  to  avoid. 


,-4„.V.  V-iJL^. 


PRODUCTION  83 


Or  they  may  approach  from  a  long  way  ofif  —  Indians 
gathering  to  attack  the  settlers,  or  the  slow  advance  of 
an  army,  may  be  made  most  effective  in  this  way.  Of 
com^e,  if  the  view  is  down  a  sudden  slope  into  a  valley, 
it  may  not  be  feasible  to  use  the  background  as  a  part 
of  the  stage,  because  the  figm-es  would  disappear  from  the 
sight  of  the  audience  once  they  pass  the  crest.  This 
apphes  equally  to  approaching  groups,  who  would  come 
as  suddenly  into  focus  as  if  they  stepped  from  the  wings.* 
Again,  if  there  is  a  stream  or  pond  on  the  ground,  canoes 
or  barges  arriving  with  landing  parties,  or  vanishing  around 
a  bend,  add  much  to  the  desired  picture.^  Distant  sing- 
ing over  water  is  also  worth  providing  for,  since  the  voices 
blend  perfectly  across  such  a  sounding  board. 

When  the  background  is  a  steep  hill,  certain  of  the 
episodes  should  be  written  to  take  advantage  of  this. 
Once  more,  the  Indians  crawling  down  the  slope,  seeking 
cover  behind  each  tree  as  they  advance,  create  a  dramatic 
effect.  Recessional  groups  winding  up  the  hill-side,  sing- 
ing as  they  go,  or  hidden  voices  coming  from  the  summit, 
give  opportunities  for  unusual  variety  of  effect.  Finally, 
with  thick  woods  at  the  rear,  the  whole  back  portion  of 
the  stage  can  be  used  for  entrances  and  exits  at  any  point 
desired.  Figures  can  be  made  to  appear  and  vanish  with 
equal  rapidity.  All  these  various  possibilities  the  director 
gets  clearly  in  mind  before  he  settles  upon  his  general 
outline  of  the  production. 

'  Such  a  backfnt)und  may,  however,  be  ulUized  for  sudden  or  unexpected 
entranceH  and  exits. 

*  At  the  Pageant  of  Oxford  splendid  use  was  made  of  the  river  Isis. 
which  flowed   through   the   "stage." 


84         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

In  the  middle  portion  and  in  the  foreground  of  his 
stage  the  producer  chooses  the  composition  points  for  his 
main  actions.  Since  he  uses  no  painted  scenery,  these 
points  are  sought  in  the  natural  setting.  Absolute  sym- 
metry in  the  latter,  such  as  equal  divisions  of  the  stage 
by  cliunps  of  trees,  or  a  large  tree  in  the  exact  centre, 
is  to  be  avoided.^  The  principles  of  pictorial  composition 
apply  to  outdoor  pageant  stages,  though  the  producer 
must  not  forget  that  he  is  working  not  on  a  plane  sur- 
face but  in  relief,  and,  furthermore,  that  his  pictures  are 
going  to  be  simultaneously  seen  from  several  angles.  In 
the  theatre  the  lines  of  sight  incline  rapidly  toward  the 
rear,  and  the  central  pivot  of  view  is  a  rather  limited  area. 
On  the  open-air  stage  these  lines  are  opened  out,  spread 
further  apart,  and  the  so-called  centre  of  the  stage  ^  may 
be  shifted,  now  towards  one  side,  now  towards  the  other. 
The  total  space  is  of  course  much  greater  than  in  the 
theatre,  and  as  the  sides  do  not  incline  inwards,  a  different 
arrangement  of  the  groups  is  necessary.  No  scene  need 
be  huddled  together,  nor  should  the  performers  be  placed 
in  straight  lines  converging  toward  a  fixed  spot.  A 
studied  irregularity  which  has  two  objects  —  a  skilfully 
composed  picture  and  a  perfect  illusion  of  naturalness  — 
is  the  result  at  which  the  producer  aims.  Neither  object 
can  be  attained  by  haphazard  methods;  each  group 
must  be  planned  with  reference  both  to  the  scene  to  be 
enacted  and  the  stage  on  which  it  is  to  appear.  The 
producer's   art  is  to   blend  his  pictures   as  perfectly   as 

*  See  Chap.  VI,  Grouping. 

'  The  "centre  of  the  stage"  is  the  point  of  focus  of  the  action. 


PRODUCTION  85 


possible  with  the  natural  setting  of  which  they  become  a 
part.  To  do  this  he  must  discard  the  traditions  of  the 
indoor  stage  and  substitute  for  the  traditional  theories  of 
staging  a  minute  study  of  his  new  resources.  He  must 
look  at  his  pageant  ground  from  every  angle,  making  at 
the  same  time  careful  measurements  of  his  distances. 
Only  by  combining  the  visualizing  power  of  his  own  im- 
agination with  a  careful  study  of  the  practical  problems 
can  he  obtain  the  jfinal  effects  he  desires. 

The  number  and  positions  of  the  entrances  and  exits, 
which  include  all  the  means  of  access  to  and  egress  from 
the  stage,  are  determined  strictly  with  reference  to  the 
requirements  of  the  text.  There  should  be  at  least  three 
principal  entrances,  each  one  able  to  accommodate,  with- 
out crowding,  the  maximum  number  of  performers  needed 
in  any  scene.  In  general,  one  of  these  entrances  gives 
access  to  the  stage  from  the  back  centre,  and  the  others 
are  found  one  on  each  side.  These  entrances  ought  to 
be  masked,  or  at  least  arranged  in  some  way  so  that 
actors  using  them  can  immediately  appear  or  disappear 
when  necessary.  The  masking  should  resemble  the  natural 
shrubbery  of  the  outdoor  stage;  it  should  never  consist 
of  flat  screens  of  branches  set  in  hnes  like  theatre  wings, 
nor  should  canvas  curtains  be  used  under  any  plea  or 
circumstance.^  Subsidiary  entrances  should  be  arranged 
for  as  the  text  may  further  require.  Usually  subordinate 
entrances  are  smaller,  being  intended  for  individuals  or 
the  lesser  groups.     The  entrances  must  be  precisely  de- 

'  The  reason  is  obvious.  Artificial  entrances  destroy  the  harmony  of 
the  natural  setting. 


86         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

tennined  at  the  outset,  in  order  that  the  producer  may 
plan  and  time  the  action  of  each  scene  from  the  moment 
his  performers  first  come  on  until  the  last  one  has  gone 
off. 

The  next  point  the  producer  has  to  consider  is  that 
all  his  effects  outdoors  must  be  gained  without  the  assist- 
ance of  painted  canvas  scenery.  He  may  shift  his  action 
from  side  to  side,  or  back  and  forth,  on  his  triply  divided 
stage,  but  he  may  not  bring  on  and  set  up  in  any  scene 
canvas  houses  or  backgrounds.  This  objection  to  the  use 
of  scenery  which  is  not  a  permanent  part  of  the  stage  is 
purely  an  artistic  one.^  Miniature  canvas  buildings, 
hastily  put  up  before  the  audience,  resemble  only  painted 
canvas.  On  the  other  hand,  a  skilful  producer  will  have 
no  difficulty  in  making  the  imagination  of  his  audience 
supply  missing  details.  If  he  tries  to  show  these  details 
hterally,  he  presents,  instead  of  a  picture  appealing  to  the 
imagination,  a  representation  which  is  hteral  and  common- 
place. The  imagination  refuses  to  accept  canvas  in  strong 
sunhght  as  a  house.  But  the  imagination  can  readily 
understand  that  these  figures  seen  advancing  have  just 
come  from  a  house  hidden  behind  the  trees.  The  differ- 
ence is  important  if  proper  illusion  is  to  be  maintained. 
Many  producers  spHt  on  the  rock  of  lack  of  faith  in  the 
imagination  of  their  audiences. 

*  The  authors  are  well  aware  that  in  many  pageants  such  scenery  has 
been  used,  but  this  does  not  alter  the  fact  that  its  use  is  an  su-tistic  mis- 
take. A  possible  exception  might  be  made  in  favor  of  a  solidly  built  and 
permanent  castle  gateway,  which  remeiins  throughout  the  performance. 
It  is  not  a  case,  here,  of  putting  up  or  taking  down  a  scene.  Similar  archi- 
tectural details,  intended  to  form  part  of  the  setting,  may  be  used. 


PRODUCTION  87 


Outdoor  producing,  then,  requires  the  postulation  of  a 
different  set  of  conventions  from  those  of  the  indoor 
stage.  These  open-air  conventions  are  more  rigid  and  un- 
changeable. The  audience  have  before  them  a  natural 
setting  which  does  not  vary.  Certain  things  concerning 
this  unchangeable  scene  must  be  taken  for  granted,  but 
care  is  needed  to  make  the  audience  understand  the 
postulates.  They  will  accept  any  conventions  the  pro- 
ducer chooses  to  make,  provided  he  is  always  consistent 
in  using  his  stage.  For  example,  if  the  entrance  on  the 
audience's  right  is  used  in  one  scene  as  the  way  to  the 
market-square  of  a  town,  it  should  be  so  used  throughout 
the  production.  Characters  who  go  off  through  that 
entrance  always  go  to  the  market-square,  and  so  on. 
Let  us  take  another  example  from  an  imaginary  open-air 
production  of  A  Midsummer  NighVs  Dream.  It  is  an 
aid  to  the  illusion  if  a  definite  portion  of  the  stage  is  set 
aside  for  the  evolutions  of  the  fairies.  That  becomes 
fairy  ground  in  the  minds  of  the  audience,  and  it  is  an 
easy  matter  for  them  to  recognize  the  convention  which 
helps  to  differentiate  mortals  from  immortals  in  the  wood- 
land scenes.  Likewise,  in  historical  pageantry  the  rear 
stage  may  represent  the  environs  of  the  town,  the  middle- 
stage  the  fields  and  meadows  adjoining,  and  the  fore-stage 
may  be  accepted  as  a  street  in  the  town  itself.'  By  using 
conventions  of  this  nature  no  scenery  of  painted  canvas 
is  required  to  help  the  audience  make-believe;  on  the 
contrary  they  will  make-believe  more  thorouglily  without  it. 

•  This  is  BUKRested  merely  as  one  way  in  which  the  necessary  conven- 
tions of  the  outdoor  stage  can  be  established  in  the  mind  of  the  audience. 


88         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

This  brings  the  producer  to  the  problem  of  how  to 
represent  in  the  open-air  scenes  which  the  text  tells  him 
are  supposed  to  occur  indoors.  In  historical  pageantry, 
for  instance,  the  meetings  of  colonial  assembhes  cannot 
very  well  be  imagined  as  taking  place  in  the  street.  Of 
course,  the  best  answer  is  that  the  text  ought  to  confine 
itself  to  episodes  in  the  open,  a  counsel  of  perfection  not 
possible  to  realize  when  perhaps  an  important  event  in 
the  town's  history  indispensable  to  the  idea  of  the  pageant 
did  happen  indoors.  The  representation  of  such  a  scene 
cannot  be  made  in  a  thoroughly  satisfactory  manner.^ 
The  best  the  producer  can  do  is  to  place  the  scene 
on  his  fore-stage,  as  close  to  the  audience  as  possible, 
at  the  same  time  reducing  the  area  of  the  stage  used  to 
approximately  that  of  a  room  or  assembly  hall.  If  possi- 
ble, he  may  employ  supernumeraries  as  spectators  who 
can  serve  the  purpose  of  an  enclosing  wall  around  three 
sides.  Such  properties  as  are  indispensable — chairs,  tables, 
and  the  like  —  may  be  brought  on  and  carried  off  again 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  scene. 

It  is  clear  from  what  has  been  said  in  the  former  para- 
graph that  outdoor  drama  leads  logically  back  to  a 
unity  of  place  —  not  to  a  place  as  circumscribed  and 
confined  as  the  theories  of  the  commentators  on  the 
classic  drama  would  have  it,  but  rather  to  a  unity  of 
locahty.  If  the  setting  is  not  added  to  by  painted  scenery 
(as  it  should  not  be),  the  changes  of  scene  are  fairly  well 

*  It  follows  that  the  number  of  these  scenes  must  be  kept  at  a  minimum. 
Occasionally  it  will  happen  that  some  of  them  can  be  transferred  to  the 
market-square  without  doing  too  much  violence  to  history. 


PRODUCTION  89 


limited  to  three  adjoining  localities  suggested  by  the  triple 
division  of  the  stage.  The  logical  use  of  stage  convention 
demands  this,  if  the  audience  are  not  to  be  confused  and 
their  imaginations  stretched  too  far.  In  historical  pa- 
geantry, where  the  story  of  a  single  community  is  in  ques- 
tion, the  matter  is  a  help  rather  than  a  hindrance.  The 
accepting  of  definite  areas  of  the  stage  to  represent  always 
the  same  locahties  saves  explanatory  exposition  at  the 
beginning  of  each  scene.  A  few  pageants,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  begun  the  history  of  the  town  in  another 
land,  showing  the  setting  forth  of  the  colonists  and  their 
motives  for  coming.  Such  material  is  of  the  nature  of 
a  prologue,  and  must  be  frankly  so  treated  —  i.e.,  as  a 
preliminary  to  the  pageant  proper.  Between  the  pro- 
logue in  another  country  and  the  beginning  of  the  action 
in  this  should  come  either  a  pause  or  an  interlude,  in 
order  that  the  set  of  conventions  may  be  frankly  changed 
to  remain  permanent  for  the  rest  of  the  production. 
Writers  of  community  drama  for  open-air  production 
should  bear  in  mind  that  one  of  the  hmitations  surround- 
ing this  form  is  the  unity  of  place  or  locaUty.  If  they 
do  this,  the  producer  will  have  no  vexations  and  inartistic 
problems  of  staging  to  solve. 

If  open-air  performances  are  given  at  night,  the  hghting 
of  the  stage  is  a  difficult  and  costly  matter.  In  order  to 
reduce  expense  and  experiment  to  the  minimum,  the 
advice  of  expert  electricians  must  be  called  in.  What 
the  producer  desires  is  a  graded  fighting  effect  upon  his 
three  divisions  of  the  stage,  with  the  fore-stage  the  most 
brilfiantly  illuminated  of  the  three.     The  entrances  must 


90         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

also  be  clearly  lighted,  that  approaching  groups  may  be 
seen.  No  hght  should  shine  in  the  eyes  of  the  audience. 
Furthermore,  all  hght  sources  should  be  concealed.^  On 
smaller  stages,  high-powered  tungsten  lamps  are  best 
supplemented  by  "spots"  and  "floods."  The  tungsten 
lamps  are  enclosed  in  tin  cones,  the  color  and  quahty  of 
their  hght  being  varied  by  covering  the  open  end  of  the 
cone  with  cheese-cloth  dyed  any  desired  color.  A  double 
thickness  of  orange  cheese-cloth  makes  the  hght  approxi- 
mate more  nearly  the  effect  of  sunhght.  The  cones  can 
be  suspended  vertically,  or  at  any  angle  wished,  and  so 
the  hght  can  be  made  to  fall  where  it  is  wanted.  The 
cone  concentrates  the  rays  and  prevents  the  bulb  from 
being  seen  by  the  audience.  Acetylene  lamps  may  be 
used  in  the  same  way. 

On  larger  stages  the  chief  dependence  will  have  to  be 
placed  on  arc  "spot"  and  "flood"  hghts.  The  white 
color  of  these,  with  their  tinge  of  violet  and  the  ink-black 
shadows  they  cast,  is  too  harsh  and  crude  by  itself.  An 
orange  or  hght  yellow  gelatine  over  the  lens  will  soften 
the  hght,  and  the  tungsten  lamps  mounted  in  cones,  as 
before,  can  be  used  on  the  stage  to  supplement  the  main 
sources.  To  secure  an  even  hghting,  the  arcs  are  best 
arranged  in  a  semicircle  above  and  behind  the  seats.  The 
loss  of  hght  due  to  its  being  thrown  from  such  a  distance 
is  compensated  for  by  the  softer  tone.  More  arcs  are 
required  than  if  the  hghting  is  from  the  front  line  of  the 
stage,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  will  not  be  necessary 

'  This  applies  also  to  the  wiring,  which  should  be  strung  from  tree  to 
tree,  and  not  from  posts. 


PRODUCTION  91 


to  have  posts  on  the  stage.  The  ground  of  the  fore-stage 
must  be  hghted  clearly,  particularly  if  there  are  dance 
interludes.  A  row  of  incandescent  bulbs,  resembling  foot- 
hghts,  but  burned  much  less  brightly,  will  give  a  soft 
even  illumination  without  throwing  a  glare  in  the  actors' 
faces.  Two  things  must  be  strictly  avoided:  the  illumina- 
tion of  no  part  of  the  stage  should  be  a  harsh  blaze  of 
hght,  nor  should  individual  actors  or  dancers  be  pursued 
about  the  stage  by  a  "spot"  hght.  If  sufficient  hght  is 
allowed  for  all  the  radius  of  action  to  be  clearly  but  not 
glaringly  visible,  no  "spots"  will  be  needed  to  show  oflF 
individual  performers. 

According  to  the  strict  principles  of  artistic  production, 
an  oi)en-air  performance  at  night  ought  to  be  one  in 
which  all  the  action  occurs  after  dark.  Just  as  the  unity 
of  locahty  for  an  outdoor  stage  is  the  true  ideal,  so  there 
ought  to  be  a  unity  in  the  matter  of  hght.  To  have  to 
imitate  an  effect  of  sunhght  in  the  evening  in  the  open  is 
to  sacrifice  deliberately  all  the  advantages  of  the  natural 
setting.^  Trees  and  foliage  become  a  harsh  strange  green 
by  yellow  or  white  artificial  hght,  while  shadows  are  far 
too  black  and  dense.  Actual  night  scenes  are  best  illumi- 
nated by  a  soft  blend  of  blue,  violet,  and  a  httle  green 
hght. 

Often  practical  reasons  determine  that  performances 
involving  daylight  scenes  shall  be  given  at  night.  The 
industrial  nature  of  the  community  may  be  such  that 
large  numbers  of  people  would  be  unable  to  attend   in 

'  Likewise,  it  is  undesirable  to  represent  night  scenes  in  daylight  per- 
formances. 


92         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

the  afternoon.  It  would  be  absurd  not  to  make  the 
necessary  compromise  when  these  conditions  obtain, 
whatever  sacrifice  of  the  producer's  theories  is  involved. 
Most  of  the  large  Enghsh  pageants  have  been  given 
both  in  the  afternoon  and  in  the  evening.  The  producer 
is  unquestionably  hampered  in  his  plans,  if  he  must  pro- 
vide for  both,  as  his  color  scheme  is  considerably  inter- 
fered with  by  being  keyed  for  two  kinds  of  fighting.  The 
modifications  which  these  double  performances  introduce 
into  the  producer's  plans  offer  individual  problems  to  be 
solved  in  each  case  according  to  the  practical  conditions 
with  which  the  producer  is  confronted. 

A  pageant  is  no  less  a  pageant  because  it  may  happen 
to  be  given  indoors.  During  the  winter  months  there  are 
opportunities  for  smaller  pageants  and  festivals  both  as 
community  celebrations  and  in  connection  with  special 
events  at  schools  and  colleges.  There  is  no  reason  why  a 
town  should  wait  for  spring  or  summer  before  enjoying 
the  benefits  and  pleasures  of  pageantry.  In  fact,  for 
communities  of  small  population  or  with  limited  funds, 
the  indoor  pageant  is  often  the  only  one  feasible.  More- 
over, the  larger  towns  may  use  winter  festivals  to  train 
their  people  for  the  greater  open-air  performances  and  to 
furnish  the  young  people  with  interesting  and  profitable 
ways  of  occupying  their  time.  The  indoor  pageant  has  not 
begun  to  reach  its  fullest  development.  There  is  a  wide 
field  here  with  which  no  technical  definition  of  pageantry 
ought  to  interfere.  The  test  is  the  value  of  the  art  to  the 
community.  Clearly,  therefore,  the  earnest  pageant  worker 
is  always  on  the  alert  to  make  use  of  his  art  whenever 


PRODUCTION  93 


the  opportunity  offers.  If  he  is  condemned  to  hibernate 
for  nine  months  of  the  year,  his  art  will  hibernate  with 
him.  The  more  indoor  pageants  and  local  dramas  are 
given,  the  better  it  will  be  for  outdoor  pageantry,  which 
is,  after  aU,  the  truest  but  not  the  only  expression  of  this 
community  art. 

Such  general  problems  as  costuming  and  color-planning 
remain  essentially  the  same  whether  the  production  is 
indoors  or  out,  but  the  practical  details  of  the  indoor 
stage  necessitate  a  different  method  of  preparing  the 
spectacle.  The  color  scheme  will  be  modified  by  the  use 
of  artificial  light,  and  the  appfication  of  fight  to  the 
scenes  is  itseff  a  difficult  matter.  The  director  cannot 
work  with  such  large  groups  of  actors  nor  handle  such 
broad  masses;  he  lacks  the  space.  Instead,  he  is  com- 
pelled to  get  his  effects  through  a  skilful  use  of  smaUer 
units.  His  figures  and  groups  are  much  nearer  the  audi- 
ence—  a  fact  that  alters  his  principles  of  staging;  the 
spoken  lines  have  now  a  greater  importance,  since  they 
are  more  easily  heard.  It  follows  also  that  once  the 
performance  is  surrounded  by  three  walls  there  is  a  greater 
temptation  to  imitate  the  professional  theatre,  to  adopt 
conventional  or  commonplace  solutions  rather  than  to 
think  out  original  ways  of  doing  things.  Once  more,  the 
producer  should  remember  that  the  actors  and  other 
contributors  to  the  work  are  amateurs.'  The  aim  there- 
fore is  the  same  as  in  outdoor  pageantry  —  to  make  the 

'  While  his  actors  are  amateurs,  his  production  should  in  no  way  resemble 
the  usual  "amateur  theatricals,"  which  are  too  often  a  clumsy  parody  of 
the  professional  drama. 


94         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

performance  expressive  of  the  community.  The  accident 
of  indoor  representation  should  not  lead  him  to  strive 
after  the  methods  of  the  theatre. 

Since  the  first  principle  of  indoor  pageant  production 
is  to  dissociate  the  staging  from  any  attempt  at  imitation 
of  the  conventional  theatre,  the  elaborate  paraphemaha 
of  painted  canvas  scenery  is  discarded  or,  rather,  does 
not  enter  into  the  designer's  thoughts.  The  problem  is 
one  of  design.  The  producer,  however,  is  not  working, 
like  the  decorative  artist,  with  a  fixed  pattern,  but  with 
a  restricted  three-dimension  space  where  figures  and  colors 
are  ever  shifting.  Compared  to  the  outdoor  production, 
he  is  now  working  almost  in  miniature,  without  any 
depth  of  perspective,  with  artificial  illuminant,  and  a 
conventionalized  background.  To  secure  the  necessary 
illusion,  he  must  employ  a  difi'erent  set  of  details  in 
staging  his  spectacle. 

The  indoor  setting  also  seeks  to  estabfish  a  close  re- 
lationship between  spectators  and  performers.  The  ideal 
is  to  make  the  audience  feel  themselves  to  be  part  of  the 
production.  Their  attention  therefore  must  be  focussed 
on  the  figm-es  of  the  actors,  and  must  not  be  dissipated 
by  overloading  the  scenes  with  a  mass  of  unnecessary 
details.  Hence  the  background  is  simplified  and  reduced 
to  an  arbitrary  convention.  Neutral  colored  draperies 
with  only  the  hint  of  an  architectural  detail,  when  the 
action  requires  the  latter,  are  sufiicient  by  way  of  scenery. 
Painted  scenery  is  costly;  it  is  reminiscent  of  the  pro- 
fessional theatre,  and,  to  be  acceptable,  must  be  the 
work  of  an  artist  of  skill  and  experience.    It  is  not,  as  a 


PRODUCTION  95 


matter  of  fact,  required  at  all  for  a  decorative  background, 
and  artistic  lighting  can  be  made  to  serve  the  audience's 
imagination  equally  well.  As,  however,  for  some  reason 
simple  scenery  may  be  desired,  a  method  of  designing  it 
will  be  later  explained.^ 

Against  a  decorative  background  of  neutral  tone  the 
figures  of  the  performers  are  thrown  into  strong  rehef. 
The  audience  become  absorbed  in  their  actions  and  are 
stirred  by  the  harmony  of  the  groups.  There  are  no  false 
notes  to  distract  their  minds.  The  artistic  value  of  the 
performance  rests  where  it  belongs,  in  the  hands  of  the 
actors,  and  they,  in  turn,  share  the  effect  directly  with 
the  spectators.  There  is  no  scattering  of  attention  among 
adventitious  details,  which  hinder  rather  than  help  to 
realize  the  desired  expression. 

Indoor  producing,  in  other  words,  aims  not  to  create 
a  magnified  painted  picture,  but  a  decorative  work  of 
art.  The  latter  idea  is  the  essence  of  the  producer's  aims, 
the  theory  which  governs  all  his  work.  It  is  the  fore- 
ground, not  the  background,  which  is  important.  All  his 
efforts  are  to  make  the  characters  stand  out.  Further- 
more, he  will  never  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  greatest 
effects  can  be  gained  with  the  least  elaborate  means.  It 
is  skill  in  selection,  in  color  combination,  in  movement  and 
grouping,  that  counts,  not  costly  scenery  and  expensive 
fabrics.  Line,  mass,  form,  color,  these  are  his  materials,  and 
his  models  are  not  theatrical  scenes,  but  Greek  vases, 
frescoes,  tapestries,  Persian  miniatures,  or  Japanese  prints. 
From  a  study  of  these  he  will  derive  his  stock  of  ideas. 

'  See  Chap.  VIII  on  Costumes,  and  Setting. 


96         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Taine  has  said  that  a  scene  is  a  rehef  which  moves. 
The  Greeks  alone  based  their  whole  theatrical  art  on  this 
idea.  Other  nations  have  lost  themselves  in  a  maze  of 
false  reahsm  —  in  a  vain  struggle  to  imitate  the  splendors 
of  the  Garden  of  Eden  upon  a  wooden  platform.  The 
Greek  theatre  embodied  a  harmonious  fusion  of  sound, 
color,  and  movement.  It  rested  upon  a  unified  principle 
because  it  always  retained,  in  its  best  period,  its  special 
character  as  a  rehgious  ceremonial  and  hence  was  guided 
by  a  single  aim.  It  is  clear  that  a  modern  theory  of 
community  dramatic  art  is  akin  to  this  ideal,  if  we  re- 
member that  it  too  aims  to  inspire  its  audience  —  to 
show  them  not  the  world  as  it  is,  but  something  of  the 
poetic  meaning  which  hfe  should  have  for  all  of  us. 

The  producer  should  utihze  his  stage  in  such  a  way 
that  the  figures  will  be  in  proportion  to  their  sur- 
roundings. The  background  should  always  be  designed 
in  proportion  to  the  actors  in  the  foreground.  This  is 
the  opposite  of  the  conventional  theatrical  custom,  where 
often  on  a  small  stage  are  shown  buildings  or  moimtain 
ranges.  But  actors  move  about,  and  every  time  they 
advance  or  retreat  the  proportions  between  them  and  the 
background  are  altered.  In  the  theatre  we  have  become 
accustomed  to  seeing  the  hero's  shadow,  as  he  moves  up- 
stage, reflected  on  a  distant  mountain  peak.  Obviously 
a  decorative  method  of  staging  abolishes  such  falsities  of 
proportion  and  perspective.  The  actor  is  dwarfed  or 
magnified  according  to  the  proportions  of  his  surroundings. 
Each  scene,  therefore,  must  have  its  correct  scale  worked 
out  in  advance,  so  that  the  director  can  attain  the  desired 


PRODUCTION  97 


effect.  Small  groups  must  not  be  lost  against  the  back- 
ground, nor  large  groups  appear  to  be  huddled  together. 
In  general,  the  smaller  the  group,  the  nearer  the  audience 
the  scene  should  be  played.  Harmony  between  the  scale 
of  the  background  and  that  of  the  foreground  must 
constantly  be  meuntained. 

Again,  the  scale  and  proportion  of  each  scene  are  closely 
related  to  the  magnitude  of  the  action  depicted.  Im- 
portant events  should  be  treated  on  a  scale  appropriate 
to  their  magnitude.^  The  culminating  crisis  in  a  town's 
history,  for  example,  might  have  resulted  from  the  private 
conference  of  two  or  three  men.  For  the  purpose  of 
emphasizing  the  importance  of  this  upon  the  stage,  the 
producer  would  transpose  his  historical  facts  by  represent- 
ing not  the  conference  but  the  arrival  of  the  news  in  the 
town,  and  so  use  a  full  stage  and  large  groups.  In  prac- 
tically every  historical  scene,  the  relative  importance  of 
an  episode  is  marked  by  the  proportion  of  the  treatment. 
The  same  is  true  of  drama.  Thus  tragedy  has  a  loftiness 
of  scale  —  from  the  proportions  of  the  scenery  to  the 
suggested  vastness  and  mystery  of  all  the  details  of  the 
setting  —  a  scale  which  would  be  inappropriate  to,  and 
out  of  keeping  with,  comedy.  The  imagination  of  the 
audience  can  be  stirred  only  by  unfailing  attention  to  the 
art  of  suggestion — by  unremitting  effort  to  create  the  de- 
sired illusion.  One  of  the  most  effective  ways  of  appeal- 
ing artistically  to  the  emotions  of  the  spectators  is  by  a 

*  It  is  not  possible  to  give  any  rules  which  would  correctly  determine 
proportion  in  terms  of  st^ige  dimensions  in  each  case.  The  matter  is  one  of 
feeling;  the  producer  must  know  when  he  is  right,  when  his  scene  possesses 
the  correct  feeling,  but  he  will  never  be  able  to  explain  how  thia  is  done. 


98         COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

careful  consideration  of  the  scale  of  treatment  demanded 
by  each  scene. 

The  harmony  of  design  is  an  integral  factor  in  the 
question  of  proportion  and  scale.  By  the  hgrnnony  of 
design  is  meant  not  only  the  harmony  of  colors  and  group- 
ings, but  that  vaguer  thing,  the  expression  of  the  pro- 
ducer's personahty  through  his  plan.^  It  is  also  necessary 
to  carry  this  definition  a  step  further  to  include  harmony 
of  method.  For  example,  the  decorative  treatment  of 
every  scene  and  interlude  must  be  the  working  out  of  a 
single  plan.  It  will  not  do  to  have  one  scene  staged  in 
one  manner,  another  in  another,  in  the  same  production. 
Wherever  the  director  borrows  ideas  for  his  designs,  these 
ideas  must  be  unified  and  made  part  of  his  personahty 
in  the  process  of  passing  through  his  brain.  Otherwise 
his  production  will  be  a  patch-work,  some  of  it  good,  some 
bad,  and  the  whole  indifi'erent  or  worse.  His  individu- 
ahty  seizes  upon  the  central  idea  of  the  drama,  and  his 
imagination  illumines  it  as  he  seeks  to  give  it  expression. 
But  under  it  all  is  the  clearly  conceived  idea  governing 
and  directing  the  treatment  of  each  scene.  Thus  every 
production  which  a  director  is  responsible  for  should  be 
different,  yet  characteristic  of  his  own  art  and  of  the 
play  itself.  No  historic  pageant  scene  or  successful  inter- 
lude can  be  repeated  in  another  production,  because  it 
would  of  necessity  be  out  of  harmony  with  the  second 
design,  even  though  the  material  were  similar.  It  also 
follows  that  no  artist  will  imitate  the  work  of  another 

*  Cf.  Moderwell:  "The  design  is  the  abstract  vision  of  the  representative 
stage  picture."     {The  Theatre  of  To-Day,  p.  88.) 


PRODUCTION  99 


man.  To  do  so  is  to  confess  himself  a  failure.  He  may 
use  the  ideas  of  others  as  a  groundwork  for  his  own  de- 
velopment, but  unless  during  the  process  they  become 
imbued  with  his  own  personality,  they  will  be  useless  to 
him.  In  short,  each  producer  must  strive  for  what  the 
French  call  a  "stylisation"  characteristic  of  his  own 
work.  Once  he  attains  this  power  of  "stylisation,"  ^  not 
only  will  harmony  of  design  result,  but  each  of  his  pro- 
ductions wiU  be  recognizable  as  an  original  conception 
which  only  that  particular  producer  would  hit  upon. 

"Stylisation"  is  a  word  commonly  used  on  the  Continent 
to  describe  a  method  of  producing  which  aims  to  bring 
out  the  individual  characteristics  of  a  play.  No  two 
plays  are  alike,  any  more  than  any  two  people  are,  there- 
fore no  two  dramas  should  receive  the  same  treatment  at 
the  producer's  hands.  Every  play,  like  every  other  work 
of  art,  has  a  "style"  of  its  own.  That  is  to  say,  a  drama 
is  composed  of  elements,  borrowed  either  from  reality  or 
from  the  region  of  fancy,  but  the  elements  are  imited 
according  to  a  rhythm  and  harmony  predetermined  by 
the  author.  The  whole  is  an  expression  of  a  certain  way 
of  seeing  life,  a  way  which  is  peculiar  to  that  author. 
The  styhsation  of  the  production  has  for  object  the  show- 
ing forth  of  the  author's  meaning  as  clearly  as  possible, 
not  the  reducing  of  the  production  to  a  single  standard 
of  theatrical  convention,  as  is  so  often  done  in  the  com- 
mercial theatre.^ 

'  See  the  interestiriK  summary  of  the  principles  of  stylisation  in  Moderwell, 
The  Theatre  of  To- Day,  Chap.  VII. 

*  The  essential  in  dramatic  stylisation  is  to  "endeavor  to  grasp  the 
whole,  to  diaoovcr  its  inner  meaning,  to  reveal  its  unity  and  purpose,  to 


100       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

The  stylistic  production  of  a  play,  as  distinct  from  the 
production  of  an  indoor  pageant  or  festival,  involves  the 
use  of  scenery.  This  scenery  is,  however,  designed  on 
principles  which  diifer  from  the  accepted  traditions  of 
the  theatre.  In  the  paragraphs  that  follow,  therefore, 
the  use  of  scenery  is  impHed.  As  for  the  practical  matter 
of  making  this  type  of  scenery  for  amateur  performances, 
suggestions  to  this  end  have  been  included  in  the  chapter 
on  Costume  and  Setting. 

There  is  a  frequent  misconception  that  the  styHstic 
method  of  production  is  a  fantastic  treatment  apphcable 
only  to  vast  spectacles  or  to  poetic  and  imaginative  drama. 
Nothing  could  be  further  from  the  truth.  Stylistic  pro- 
ductions give  large  returns  in  sheer  beauty  of  grouping 
and  coloring  when  there  is  opportunity  to  work  on  a  great 
scale  or  with  poetic  material,  but  if  there  is  any  truth  in 
the  theory  that  the  work  of  a  recognized  dramatist  has 
an  individuality  of  its  own  (and  this  is  hardly  to  be 
denied),  then  that  individuality  should  be  emphasized, 
not  obscured,  by  the  production.  As  a  consequence, 
stylisation  is  equally  apphcable  to  the  most  reahstic  types 
of  drama.  Suppose,  for  example,  that  there  is  question 
of  producing  a  play  by  Ibsen  —  let  us  say  Hedda  Gabler. 
The  play  is  realistic  —  and  what  does  the  average  pro- 
ducer do  with  it.**  He  surrounds  Hedda  with  a  great 
quantity  of  bourgeois  furniture  and  embues  the  actors 
with  a  certain  restlessness,  so  that  they  are  always  eating 

select  the  essential  'and  repeat  it  constantly  with  fitting  variations,  to 
suggest  rather  than  to  reveal,  to  work,  above  all,  with  the  imagination 
and  the  poetic  sense."     (Moderwell,  The  Theatre  of  To-Day,  p.  122.) 


Outdoor  Theatre.  Dartmouth 


SmAOOWS.       (iR(iri>S    IN     MoVKMKNT 

(Sylvia  Drriih-s  —  Diirliiidiith  ) 


PRODUCTION  101 


breakfast,  taking  tea,  crossing  the  stage  to  pick  up  maga- 
zines, opening  doors,  and  doing  a  host  of  other  things 
which  are  supposed  to  be  "natural."  Whereas  the  "real" 
thing  in  the  play  is  the  highly  complex  and  dominating 
figure  of  Hedda  herself.  Everything  should  be  subordi- 
nated to  the  task  of  making  the  audience  understand  her. 
How  to  bring  out  the  reahty  of  Hedda  is  the  problem  — 
not  how  to  construct  a  Norwegian  interior  composed  of 
microscopic  details  imported  from  Bergen.  There  should 
be  no  aimless  eating  or  wandering  about  the  stage,  no 
emphasis  upon  elements  not  in  the  play,  or  added  by  the 
producer  in  a  misguided  desire  to  make  it  "natural." 
The  setting  and  the  other  characters  are  only  an  accom- 
paniment to  the  symphony,  not  independent  instruments 
each  claiming  attention  on  its  own  account.  In  other 
words,  the  attention  of  the  audience  must  not  be  dis- 
tracted, but  focussed  on  the  matter  in  hand.  Styhsation 
in  the  realistic  drama  is  the  recognition  of  the  author's 
idea  and  its  correct  interpretation.  There  can  be  no  play- 
ing for  traditional  or  conventional  stage  effects,  no  desire 
to  have  a  set  of  scenery  secure  a  round  of  applause  all 
by  itself,  as  has  been  done,  no  making  of  so-called  "effec- 
tive points"  by  emphasizing  disproportionately  certain 
lines  of  dialogue.  These  things  are  only  irrelevant  in- 
trusions or  interruptions  of  the  text. 

Stylisation  apphed  to  reahsm  involves  a  so-called 
decorative  treatment,  it  is  true,  a  fact  which  has  led  a 
few  to  suppose  that  styhsation  always  involves  a  fantastic 
pictorial  production.  This  is  because  they  have  under- 
stood   the    word    "decorative"    incorrectly.      Decorative, 


102       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

as  referring  to  the  art  of  production,  means  primarily 
appropriateness  of  scenery,  costuming,  and  acting  to  the 
type  of  play  in  hand.  Further,  it  means  that  the  approach 
to  the  producer's  conception  rests  upon  artistic  ideas  bor- 
rowed from  the  painter  rather  than  from  theatre  tradition. 
Hence  the  design  of  a  modern  room  in  a  bourgeois  house- 
hold, for  example,  involves  exactly  the  same  principles  as 
a  design  for  Aladdin's  palace.  One  aims  to  suggest  the 
atmosphere  and  the  surroundings  of  a  middle-class  family, 
the  other  the  gorgeousness  of  Eastern  fairy-land.  What 
the  stylistic  producer  avoids  is  picking  any  commonplace 
room  at  random  for  his  reahstic  scene,  and  then  cram- 
ming it  full  of  all  the  middle-class  furniture,  bric-a-brac, 
and  knick-knacks  that  he  can  find,  under  the  impression 
that  these  details  give  atmosphere.  What  is  wanted  are 
not  three  walls  of  painted  canvas  with  a  mass  of  real 
furniture  bringing  out  in  glaring  contrast  and  false  per- 
spective the  difference  between  the  real  and  the  make- 
believe,  but  a  make-beheve  so  well  and  harmoniously 
designed  in  all  its  parts  that  the  fact  of  its  artificiality 
never  intrudes  itself  upon  the  minds  of  the  audience.  It 
remains  throughout  merely  an  appropriate  and  subordi- 
nate background  to  the  important  part  of  the  play,  the 
personality  of  the  actors. 

It  may  well  be  asked  how  the  design  of  such  a  room 
differs  from  that  of  the  rooms  painted  by  the  average 
theatrical  scene  builder.  In  the  first  place,  the  conven- 
tional room  upon  the  stage,  apart  from  the  overabundance 
of  detail  in  it,  a  thing  which  has  already  been  referred  to, 
is  too  high,  and  narrows  too  sharply  at  the  back.     Its 


PRODUCTION  103 


perspective  is  false  and  absurd.  But  granting  that  the 
best  theatres  have  reformed  this  fault  indifferently  well, 
the  general  error  of  making  the  room  a  colored  photo- 
graph rather  than  a  pictorial  composition  remains.  The 
perspective  is  still  falsified  by  painting  mouldings,  cor- 
nices, and  often  even  bookcases  on  the  flat  surface  of 
the  scene.  Shadows  are  painted  with  them  and  the  result 
is  an  appearance  of  rehef  with  fixed  shadows  frecjuently 
at  variance  with  the  fighting  of  the  stage.  As  the  fights 
are  changed,  these  shadows  nevertheless  remain  constant. 
This  destroys  the  imity  of  the  picture.  The  chief  rule, 
therefore,  upon  which  the  styfistic  producer  insists  is  that 
aU  refief  work,  such  as  mouldings  and  cornices,  must  be 
in  actual,  not  painted,  refief.  This  wiU  insure  shadows 
which  are  the  result  of  the  fighting,  not  independent  of 
it.  Since  fight  and  shade  and  their  combination  in  proper 
proportions  are  of  the  essence  of  pictorial  art,  the  im- 
portance of  not  falsifying  the  shadows  is  obvious.  Again, 
the  light  itself  must  appear  to  come  from  its  supposed 
source  in  the  fighting  fixtures  in  the  room,  not  from  all 
directions,  downwards,  upwards,  and  sideways,  as  often 
happens  now.  Last  of  all,  the  proportion  and  scale  of 
the  room  itself  should  correspond  to  the  kind  of  room 
shown  and  to  the  size  of  the  actors. 

The  greatest  difficulty  which  the  styfistic  producer 
encounters  is  with  outdoor  scenes  in  a  realistic  play. 
Pictorial  or  poetical  drama  allows  a  formafized  decorative 
treatment,  but  how  represent  a  real  forest  or  a  vicarage 
garden  so  it  shall  not  resenil)le  a  mass  of  waving  canvas 
to    which    millinery    trimmings    of   artificial    fofiage    and 


104       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

flowers  have  been  added?  Clearly  the  only  thing  to  be 
done  is  to  simplify  the  setting  as  much  as  possible.  A 
stage-set,  at  best,  is  not  going  to  give  an  accurate  impres- 
sion of  the  open  air,  and  the  harder  one  tries  to  achieve 
this  impossible  result,  by  adding  "practicable"  trees,  the 
less  convincing  the  effect.  In  Germany  there  are  several 
stages  domed  at  the  rear  which  produce  a  remarkable 
illusion  of  distance  and  accuracy  of  atmospheric  perspec- 
tive. The  amateur  stage  has  no  such  expensive  resource 
available.  Much  can  be  done  with  a  panorama  drop, 
or  cyclorama,  a  canvas  horizon  set  around  the  back  of 
the  stage  on  a  curve.  This,  with  a  proper  handling  of 
the  hghting  and  of  the  foreground,  will  give  almost  as 
good  results  as  a  domed  stage,  at  a  mere  fraction  of  the 
cost.^  The  rear  of  the  stage  should  be  built  up  to  a 
height  of  about  two  feet  —  either  to  suggest  a  terrace 
or  a  hill-top.  If  a  space  between  the  panorama  sky  and 
the  built-up  portion  is  left,  an  appearance  of  a  perspective 
of  a  great  depth  is  given,  provided  the  scene  is  skilfuUy 
lighted.  Trees  may  be  painted  or  set  up  in  silhouette 
against  the  background.  All  the  apparent  far  distant 
points  on  the  stage  are  removed  from  the  zone  of  action 
by  making  a  horizon  line  in  this  way,  and  the  absurdity 
of  having  actors  within  two  feet  of  a  mountain  range  is 
avoided.  Foreground  details  should  be  few  and  accurately 
proportioned  to  the  figin-es  of  the  actors.  Once  across  the 
horizon  line,  anything  seen  in  relief  against  the  sky  may 

*  Panorama  drops  are,  however,  relatively  expensive,  particularly  to 
install,  compared  with  a  flat  drop.  Usually  they  are  quite  beyond  the 
resources  of  the  amateur  stage. 


PRODUCTION  105 


be  reduced  to  the  proper  scale  of  distance.  By  giving 
the  sky  an  independent  hghting,  part  of  it  from  below, 
no  shadows  will  be  thrown  against  it.  Thus,  the  illusion 
of  distance  will  not  be  destroyed.  Such  a  setting  works 
well  for  night  and  twihght  scenes,  but  is  less  effective  in 
a  supposed  dayhght.  Just  as  the  outdoor  stage  can  repre- 
sent an  indoor  scene  only  by  adopting  a  frank  convention, 
so  the  converse  is  true  of  the  indoor  stage.  The  outdoor 
scenes  must  be  a  convention,  with,  however,  this  proviso, 
that  the  convention  need  not  be  an  inartistic  one. 

These  notes,  brief  as  they  are,  have  been  inserted  for 
the  benefit  of  those  amateurs  who  have  to  deal  with  the 
question  of  giving  an  indoor  play.  There  is  much  that 
might  be  said  on  this  subject  and  there  are  naturally 
many  conflicting  theories  which  the  writers  of  this  book 
have  not  referred  to,  feeling  that  it  is  wiser  to  leave  them 
to  be  studied  in  the  sources  suggested  by  the  bibhography. 
The  suggestions  here  laid  down  represent,  at  least,  a 
method  of  approach  which  gives  good  results  when  exf)eri- 
ence  and  judgment  have  supplemented  the  ideas  offered. 
As  has  been  repeatedly  said,  when  deahng  with  pageantry 
indoors,  the  problem  of  reahstic  scenery  does  not  arise. 

It  is  obvious  from  all  this  that  the  producer  must  not 
prepare  individual  historical  episodes  as  separate  detached 
studies  of  reahsm.  If  each  of  these  is  put  on  with  minute 
analysis,  but  independently  one  of  the  other,  the  spec- 
tator will  see  only  a  series  of  fragments,  perhaps  excellently 
done,  but  having  no  unity  of  meaning.  Tolstoi  has  warned 
all  artists  that  many  things  cannot  be  done;  it  is  better 
to  leave  something  to  the  spectator's  imagination  in  order 


106       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

that  he  may  complete  the  illusion  for  himself.  Fm-ther- 
more,  to  do  too  much  is  to  scatter  the  fragments  of  the 
mosaic.  The  producer  who  is  too  much  interested  in  his 
fragments  loses  sight  of  the  complete  picture  which  it 
is  the  purpose  of  the  fragments  to  form.  Whether  he  is 
working  on  an  indoor  or  an  outdoor  production,  a  feeling 
for  the  essential  unity  of  the  conception  should  form  the 
basis  of  all  his  work. 

There  are  two  general  types  of  indoor  stage,  a  relatively 
small  platform,  and,  in  the  case  of  large  armories  or  halls, 
a  double  stage  consisting  of  a  platform  with  a  semicir- 
cular space  in  front.  The  worst  possible  stage  to  use  for 
pageantry  or  community  drama  is  that  of  a  professional 
theatre.  A  director  would  do  well  to  choose  a  bare  hall 
in  preference  to  the  best  equipped  theatre.  It  can  be 
more  easily  adapted  to  the  simplification  of  production 
required  and  carries  no  theatrical  associations  to  influence 
the  minds  of  actors  and  audience.  The  hall  has  no  fixed 
and  unalterable  Ughting  system  in  connection  with  its 
stage;  thus  the  director  is  free  to  devise  his  own  method. 
Finally,  a  theatre  is  difficult  to  manage  without  using 
some  of  its  conventional  scenery,  while  the  shape  of  the 
stage  itself  is  fixed.  On  the  other  hand,  the  more  bare 
the  building,  the  greater  the  latitude  allowed  the  director 
to  create  the  type  of  stage  he  desires.  In  this  way  only 
can  he  be  certain  of  an  appropriate  and  artistic  pro- 
duction, nor  need  he  be  deterred  by  the  fear  of  increased 
cost.  The  rent  of  a  theatre  is  high,  a  cost  which  is  not 
equalled  by  the  expense  of  equipping  a  hall.  Of  the  two, 
the  latter  is  the  more  economical. 


PRODUCTION  107 


As  in  outdoor  work,  the  size  of  the  stage  determines 
the  relative  numbers  composing  the  groups  and  guides 
the  director  in  planning  their  disposition.  Too  many  per- 
formers cannot  be  used  to  advantage  on  a  small  stage, 
as  the  nearness  of  the  audience  makes  any  confusion  or 
crowding  immediately  apparent.  The  space  at  the  en- 
trances and  exits  is  restricted,  and  this  must  be  taken 
into  account  to  ensure  the  smooth  handling  of  groups. 
Much  can  be  done  to  give  the  impression  of  a  vast  throng 
by  clever  grouping  and  the  use  of  shouts  and  tramping 
feet  off  stage.  For  a  hmited  number  of  performers,  width 
rather  than  depth  of  stage  is  important.  In  constructing 
a  small  stage,  all  the  width  possible  should  be  utilized 
and  then  plans  should  be  made  for  a  depth  of  from  one 
third  to  a  maximum  of  one  half  the  breadth.  The  plat- 
form should  be  raised  about  three  feet  from  the  floor 
level.  If  there  is  room  to  make  the  stage  half  as  wide 
as  it  is  broad,  raise  one  sixth  of  the  area  at  the  rear 
another  eighteen  inches  or  two  feet  and  connect  this 
portion  with  the  main  stage  by  steps.  The  two  levels 
are  useful  in  securing  artistic  grouping.  In  general, 
three  entrances  are  sufficient:  one  at  each  side  directly 
opposite,  and  one  at  the  back.  The  main  stage  should 
also  be  connected  with  the  aisles  of  the  auditorium  by 
steps,  preferably  on  both  sides,  so  that  processional  groups 
may  pass  through  the  audience  and  up  onto  the  platfonu. 

A  large  hall  or  armory  permits  of  greater  numbers  of 
performers  and  a  more  elaborate  stage.  If  there  is  plenty 
of  room,  a  stage  should  be  constructed  a  third  as  broad 
as  it  is  long,  with  the  rear  portion  raised  as  before.     In 


108       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

the  centre,  behind  the  entrance,  if  the  depth  allows,  there 
should  be  added  a  back  stage  equal  in  width  to  a  quarter 
the  breadth  of  the  fore-stage.  This  will  give  three  divi- 
sions to  the  platform  itself.  The  small  back  stage  is  not 
essential  but  is  useful.  The  main  platform  is  about  four 
feet  from  the  floor,  not  higher.  In  front  of  the  platform 
a  fore-stage  should  be  marked  out,  either  in  the  shape  of 
a  circle  with  a  portion  cut  off,  or  as  a  deep  elhpse.  The 
principal  thing  is  to  take  all  the  space  possible  without 
cutting  off  necessary  seats  for  the  audience.  The  pro- 
portions are  best  seen  from  the  figures  for  an  imaginary 
stage  of  this  type.  The  main  platform  is  sixty  feet  wide 
and  thirty  feet  in  depth,  of  which  a  portion  eight  to  ten 
feet  wide  is  raised  above  the  main  level.  The  circular 
fore-stage  would  then  be  seventy  feet  wide  by  fifty  feet 
deep,  overlapping  the  ends  of  the  platform  stage  on  each 
side.  No  seats  should  be  placed  nearer  the  fore-stage 
than  a  distance  of  fifteen  feet  all  around. 

The  use  of  a  circular  fore-stage  requires  that  the  audi- 
ence be  seated  on  raised  seats.  These  may  be  obtained  by 
hiring  and  setting  up  circus  seats  or  athletic  "bleachers," 
as  these  are  available  in  portable  sections  which  can  be 
made  to  fit  any  required  space.  They  usually  have  to 
be  put  into  position  without  driving  nails  in  the  floor. 
Therefore  it  is  necessary  to  entrust  the  work  of  erecting 
the  seats  to  competent  hands  experienced  in  such  matters. 
The  local  carpenter  may  find  it  a  task  beyond  his  powers. 
When  seats  are  erected,  an  aisle  communicating  direct 
with  the  fore-stage  must  be  left  for  the  passage  of  pro- 
cessional groups  approaching  through  the  audience. 


PRODUCTION  109 


The  platfonn  stage  should  be  approached  on  either 
side  by  ramps  at  least  ten  feet  in  width.  Wide  approaches 
are  necessary  for  the  smooth  and  orderly  handhng  of  large 
groups.  These  ramps  require  masking  so  that  the  audi- 
ence will  not  see  the  performers  before  they  reach  the 
stage.  The  masking  forms  part  of  the  general  scheme  of 
draperies.  On  the  platform  stage  two  side  pieces,  fifteen 
feet  in  height  if  the  hall  is  a  large  annory,  are  set  up  to 
serve  as  a  kind  of  proscenium.  The  drapery  screens 
hiding  the  ramps  adjoin  the  two  side  pieces.  If  the  stage 
is  very  small  a  complete  proscenium  frame  may  be  built, 
but  no  curtain  is  needed  in  either  case.  The  proscenium 
frame  is  covered  with  drapery  darker  in  tone  than  the 
draperies  of  the  background.  This  drapery  should  not 
be  stretched  tight  but  tacked  in  folds.  Along  the  edges 
of  the  frame  the  drapery  is  brought  over  from  the  back, 
instead  of  simply  being  tacked  flush  with  the  edge.  The 
background  of  the  platform  stage  is  hmited  to  neutral 
tinted  hangings,  preferably  soft  grays,  or  gray-browns, 
or  grayish-greens.  These  hangings  are  attached  to  a 
curved  wooden  or  gas-pipe  support  of  from  fifteen  to 
eighteen  feet  above  the  platform  level.  By  arranging  the 
background  draperies  in  a  curve,  a  better  perspective  and 
more  artistic  grouping  is  possible.  However,  if  the  struc- 
ture of  the  building  makes  this  a  costly  or  difficult  matter, 
they  can  hang  parallel  to  the  rear  of  the  platform.  The 
folds  of  the  draperies,  as  in  the  case  of  the  proscenium, 
begin  on  the  back  and  the  hangings  are  brought  over  the 
carrying  rod.  The  folds  fall  onto  the  floor  —  not  clear 
of  it  or  just  touching  it.    When  cheese-cloth  or  other  thin 


110       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

material  is  used  for  the  hangings  it  must  be  backed  with  can- 
vas, or  light  will  show  through.  Even  with  heavy  draperies, 
no  hghts  should  be  placed  directly  behind  the  scenes  except 
a  few  dim  ones  below  the  level  of  the  platform  stage. 

The  platform  stage  is  connected  with  the  circular  fore-stage 
by  steps  whose  width  is  about  half  that  of  the  stage  itself, 
leaving  a  quarter  of  the  width  as  clear  space  on  each  side. 
The  aisle  through  the  audience  is  opposite  the  centre  of  the 
steps.  The  music  must  be  provided  for  at  one  side,  prefer- 
ably that  of  the  audience's  left.  If  it  is  placed  anywhere 
directly  in  front,  as  in  a  theatre,  it  will  interfere  with  a  view 
of  the  performance.  Finally,  as  much  room  as  possible 
should  be  left  behind  the  scenes  and  about  the  entrances 
and  exits,  this  being  even  more  important  indoors  than  out. 

Intimate  scenes,  in  which  the  dialogue  is  important, 
and  certain  of  the  dance  interludes,  are  played  on  the 
circular  fore-stage,  while  other  movements  of  masses  and 
groups  are  kept  to  the  platform  stage.  Exterior  scenes 
are  indicated  by  the  use  of  a  few  shrubs  —  provided  the 
latter  are  not  palms  or  rubber  plants.  If  shrubs  are  used 
at  all  they  should  be  chosen  from  those  that  might  con- 
ceivably grow  outdoors  in  that  locahty.  But  it  is  not 
necessary  to  bank  the  stage  with  masses  of  plants.  A 
few  are  quite  sufficient  to  suggest  to  the  imagination  of 
the  audience  the  outdoor  character  of  the  scene.  In  like 
manner  interiors  are  hinted  at  by  bringing  on  the  minimum 
furniture  required  by  the  action  of  the  scene.  All  these 
properties  or  accessories  must  be  brought  on  and  carried 
off  again  at  the  conclusion  of  the  episode  in  which  they 
are  used.    For  that  reason,  nothing  should  be  put  on  the 


PRODUCTION  111 


stage  that  is  not  absolutely  demanded  by  the  text.  The 
fewer  accessories  of  all  kinds  the  better.  In  fact  some 
producers  are  opposed  to  the  use  of  any  properties  other 
than  those  which  people  naturally  carry  about  with  them. 
For  the  lighting  of  small  stages  the  incandescent  tung- 
sten lamp  is  the  best  medium.  Theatres  possess  several 
circuits  of  such  lamps,  some  fixed,  others  portable,  and 
all  connected  to  "dimmers,"  which  allow  of  the  fights 
being  dimmed  or  brightened  at  wiU.  In  addition,  theatres 
are  furnished  with  "spot"  and  "flood"  fights  of  brilfiant 
intensity.  The  small  haU  or  platform  stage  requires  no 
such  elaborate  equipment.  Footfights,  although  they  are 
much  in  disfavor  at  present  because  of  the  unnatural  fight 
they  throw  in  the  actors'  faces,  are  after  aU  a  useful  way 
of  fighting  a  stage.  If  dimmers  are  out  of  the  question, 
and  they  usuaUy  are,  since  they  are  expensive  and  require 
a  special  wiring  instaUation,  the  footfights  can  easily  be 
arranged  on  two  circuits  and  may  then  be  dimmed  by 
cutting  out  one  of  the  circuits.  Also,  low  candle-power 
lamps  may  be  used  in  one  circuit,  and  normal  candle-power 
lamps  in  the  other.  For  the  rear  and  sides  of  the  stage 
a  few  portable  stands  of  incandescent  lamps  may  be 
attached  to  wall  plugs  and  be  moved  about  at  wiU.  As 
in  outdoor  fighting,  the  lamps  on  standards  can  be  mounted 
in  tin  cones,  with  the  op>ening  covered  with  some  thin 
material  to  soften  and  diffuse  the  fight.  One  spot  fight 
for  special  effects  will  be  all  that  is  required.  Colored 
bulbs  in  blues,  reds,  and  ambers  are  readily  obtainable. 
The  footfights  should  contain  a  liberal  mixture  of  amber 
bulbs.     The  position   and   number  of  the  lights  depend 


112       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

upon  the  size  of  the  stage  and  the  absorbent  power  of 
the  background.  Actual  experiment,  or  hghting  rehearsals, 
are  necessary  to  determine  what  is  required. 

In  large  armories,  besides  the  clusters  of  bulbs  on 
standards,  a  ninnber  of  flood  hghts  are  needed.  If  there 
is  a  circular  fore-stage,  there  will  be  no  foothghts,  and  all 
the  hght  will  come  from  above  and  from  the  sides.  If 
there  is  a  convenient  gallery  around  the  hall,  the  flood 
hghts  are  placed  there,  and  in  any  event  should  be  at 
some  distance  from  the  stage  to  soften  their  intensity. 
In  order  to  determine  the  most  economical  method  and 
the  most  practicable  appUcation  of  the  wiring  already  in 
place,  an  expert  electrician  should  be  caUed  in.  A  new 
hghting  installation  is  expensive  and  usuaUy  impractical. 
Ingenuity  and  experiment  wifl  usuaUy  enable  the  producer 
to  adapt  the  resources  at  hand.  The  hghting  problem 
should  not  be  left  to  the  last  minute,  because  hght  is  an 
integral  part  of  the  production.  On  its  skilful  use  depend 
the  color  effects,  the  disposition  of  the  shadows  and  masses, 
and  the  blending  together  of  all  the  other  elements. 

Finally,  it  is  in  the  art  of  production  as  a  whole  in  the 
total  effect  of  the  given  spectacle  that  the  supreme  test 
of  values  must  be  sought.  These  values  are  dependent 
primarily  upon  the  vision,  the  invention,  and  the  skill 
of  the  producer,  yet  in  community  drama,  even  more 
upon  the  spirit  of  cooperation  resulting  in  a  performance 
whose  details  are  the  work  of  no  single  individual  but  of  all, 
down  to  the  least,  who  have  shared  in  the  work.  It  is  the 
curious  paradox  of  production  that  it  begins  as  individuahst 
art,  only  to  achieve  its  final  expression  in  cooperation. 


Chapter  V 
ACTING 

**Eviiez  cependani  une  chalew  factice. 
Qui  seduit  quelquefois  et  vil  par  artifice. 
Tons  ces  trepignements  et  de  pieds  et  de  mains. 
Convulsions  de  Fart,  grimaces  de  paniins. 
Dans  ces  vains  mouvemenis  quon  prend  pour  de  la  flamme, 
N'allez  point  sur  la  seine  eparpiller  voire  dme." 

PAGEIANTRY  does  not  demand  a  number  of  people 
trained  and  experienced  in  acting.  If  it  did,  or 
if  the  producer  were  to  insist  upon  the  finish  of  the 
professional  stage,  pageantry  would  be  too  difficult  an  un- 
dertaking for  the  average  community.  The  only  qualifica- 
tion for  a  pageant  actor  is  a  desire  to  take  part  in  the 
performance.  The  whole  theory  of  pageant  acting  rests 
upon  the  assumption  that  the  performers  are  amateurs. 
Hence  the  producer's  directions  to  his  players  should  be 
few  and  simple,  the  object  being  to  have  them  speak  their 
lines  audibly  and  not  to  step  out  of  the  picture  once  the 
words  are  delivered.  His  main  task  is  marshaUing  and 
massing  his  groups  into  a  series  of  beautiful  pictures; 
his  individuals  need  only  be  related  to  these  groups  in  an 
intelhgent  way  to  complete  the  whole. 

The  technical  problem  which  the  producer  has  to  solve 
is  to  keep  all  his  figures  in  the  picture.  It  is  the  pictorial 
efiTect  of  each  scene,  rather  than  the  acting  of  individuals, 


114       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

that  is  important.  Individuals  become  prominent  when 
the  action  of  a  particular  episode  so  requires,  but  no  single 
figure  dominates  the  stage  for  more  than  a  few  minutes. 
There  are  no  "star"  parts  in  pageantry  in  the  sense  in 
which  the  theatre  uses  this  term.  The  very  size  of  the 
pageant  stage  emphasizes  the  necessity  for  grouj>-acting. 

Perhaps  a  comparison  of  the  requirements  of  pageant 
acting  with  the  acting  of  the  Elizabethan  stage  will  illus- 
trate the  question  more  clearly.  With  a  comparatively 
small,  bare  platform,  dramatic  representation  could  not 
be  an  art  of  pictorial  illusion.  On  a  stage  surrounded  by 
spectators  and  with  the  players  embarrassingly  close  to 
the  audience,  acting  was  necessarily  rhetorical  and  vigor- 
ous. The  actor  had  to  dominate  the  scene  by  the  power 
of  his  personality,  while  the  pictorial  illusion  was  created 
in  the  imaginations  of  the  spectators  by  the  descriptive 
force  of  the  lines.  The  actor  had  to  rely  upon  his  abil- 
ity to  interpret  character  and  his  skill  in  speaking  the 
dramatist's  words.  There  was  no  vast  distance  between 
him  and  the  audience  to  soften  the  impression,  nor 
scenic  accessories  to  aid  him  in  creating  his  picture. 

The  conditions  of  the  pageant  stage  are  the  exact 
reverse.  The  actor  is  separated  from  the  spectators  by  a 
space  sometimes  greater  than  that  of  the  Greek  theatre. 
Behind  him  is  a  natural  setting,  against  which  trivial 
gestures  and  minute  shades  of  expression  are  lost.  On 
the  other  hand,  this  natural  setting  lends  itself  admirably 
to  pictorial  treatment,  so  that  what  is  lost  in  individual 
character  interpretation  is  compensated  for  by  group  and 
mass  effects.     The  general  principles  of  pageant  acting. 


ACTING  115 

therefore,  are  nearer  those  of  the  Greeks,  "a  series  of 
slowly  changing  rhythmic  movements,  accompanied  by 
sonorous  utterance."  *  Distinctness  in  speaking  the  lines, 
together  with  simple,  broad  action  and  minute  attention 
to  securing  beauty  in  the  grouping,  are  the  things  with 
which  the  producer  is  chiefly  concerned.  The  individual 
subordinates  his  acting  to  his  surroundings,  instead  of 
trying  to  detach  himself  from  them. 

With  a  general  understanding  of  the  kind  of  acting 
required,  the  producer  proceeds  to  choose  the  cast.  Here 
the  eagerness  of  the  candidates  to  participate  is  worth 
more  to  the  producer  than  problematical  rhetorical  abihty. 
Full  advantage  of  enthusiasm  should  be  made  use  of  by 
assigning  as  many  as  possible  of  the  important  roles  to 
those  who  manifest  the  most  interest.  Tact  is  needed  to 
apportion  all  the  parts  satisfactorily,  but  it  may  be 
assumed  that  the  pageant  producer  possesses  this.  Of 
course  it  is  necessary  to  choose  certain  characters  on  the 
basis  of  physical  qualifications;  an  individugJ  with  a 
weak  voice  may  not  undertake  a  heavy  part,  nor  a  short 
man  the  role  of  a  historical  personage  famous  for  his 
massive  proportions.  Judgment  and  discretion  easily 
decide  these  and  similar  questions.  There  is,  however, 
one  method  of  choosing  actors  for  historical  characters 
which  has  become  a  custom:  any  available  descendants 
of  famous  families  are  assigned  to  personate  their  ances- 
tors. Not  only  does  this  add  to  the  pubhc  interest  in  the 
pageant,  but  it  is  also  a  potent  way  of  securing  the  assist- 
ance of  these  individuals. 

'  CaQin:    Appreciation  of  tiie  Drama,  p.  71, 


116       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Rehearsals  are  preferably  begun  with  isolated  episodes 
and  with  only  the  speaking  characters.  The  groups  wiU 
require  separate  rehearsing.^  As  a  preliminary,  the  director 
assembles  the  whole  cast  and  reads  to  them  the  complete 
text.  It  is  essential  that  everyone  in  the  production  be 
familiar  with  the  general  idea  and  spirit  of  the  pageant. 
In  any  case,  the  producer  reads  aloud  each  episode  before 
its  first  rehearsal.  Next,  the  members  of  the  cast  read 
their  parts,  each  one  in  the  order  of  speaking,  so  that 
the  producer  may  gain  some  knowledge  of  the  voice, 
accent,  intonation  and  intelligence  of  his  actors.  As  they 
read  the  director  will  give  a  few  brief  directions  about 
the  positions  of  the  characters  on  the  stage  and  any 
"business"^  required  by  the  action  of  the  scene.  The 
actors  should  write  these  directions  into  their  parts  and 
memorize  them  as  carefully  as  the  fines.  Each  individual 
is  next  taken  aside  and  given  a  brief  sketch  of  the  charac- 
ter as  the  producer  conceives  it,  or  is  asked  first  for  his 
or  her  understanding  of  it.  Throughout  the  director  will 
suggest  and  question  rather  than  issue  instructions  con- 
cerning the  method  of  interpretation.  Amateurs  cannot 
readily  assume  a  part  requiring  an  emotional  expression 
beyond  their  experience,  and  to  turn  them  aside  to  an 
attempt  which  they  feel  to  be  unnatural  will  not  usually 
be  successful.  They  must  be  persuaded  to  feel  at  home 
in  speaking  their  lines;  therefore  the  director  allows  them 
to  express  their  own  ideas  of  their  parts  as  far  as  possible. 

*  See  Chap.  VI,  Grouping. 

*  "Business,"  as  the  word  is  used  in  acting,  means  anything  done  by 
a  performer  other  than  speaking  his  lines. 


ACTING  117 

Nearly  all  amateurs  have,  however,  certain  pronounced 
faults  which  are  comparatively  easily  remedied  if  the 
director  has  inspired  the  confidence  of  everyone  in  the 
value  of  his  advice.  The  first  of  these  is  faulty  articulation, 
which  may  be  anything  from  indistinctness  of  pronuncia- 
tion to  failure  correctly  to  produce  the  voice,  with  conse- 
quent loss  of  carrying  power.  The  average  line,  whether 
on  the  outdoor  or  indoor  stage,  is  spoken  more  slowly 
than  in  actual  conversation.  This  is  especially  true  in 
the  open  air,  where  the  difficulties  of  making  one's  self 
heard  are  greatly  increased.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
tendency  of  many  amateurs  is  to  speak  rapidly,  to  hurry 
their  Unes,  either  through  nervousness  and  self-conscious- 
ness, or  else  to  show  how  well  they  know  them.  Nervous- 
ness wiU  also  cause  them  to  look  down  when  they  are 
speaking,  thus  preventing  their  Knes  from  being  heard. 
They  must  be  interrupted  frequently  at  the  outset  and 
made  to  take  a  slower  tempo.  Failure  to  produce  the 
voice  correctly  will  require  practice  on  the  part  of  the 
actor  to  overcome.  He  must  be  impressed  with  the  necessity 
for  neatness  of  articulation.  This  cannot  be  attained  by 
mere  sound.  Shouting  the  lines  will  not  make  them  carry 
further;  on  the  contrary,  it  makes  faulty  articulation  more 
pronounced.  Only  by  giving  proper  attention  to  the  true 
sounds  of  vowels  and  consonants  can  the  words  convey 
the   meaning   intended.'     Syllables   must   not   be   slurred, 

'  Harmony  of  tone  among  the  varied  voices  on  the  stage  is  an  effect 
worth  striving  for,  but  difficult  of  ac<x)mplishment.  There  is  no  reason, 
however,  why  the  musical  tones  of  the  spoken  voice,  and  the  harmony  of 
one  tone  with  another,  should  he  so  conspicuously  neglectetl  as  is  often  the 
case  on  the  modem  stage.     Cf.,   Henry   Irving,    TIte  Drama,  p.   75.-    *'.\n 


118        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

particularly  final  syllables,  but  each  should  receive  its 
due  share  of  emphasis.  Finally  the  amateur  wiU  need  to 
be  told  to  keep  his  voice  up  until  the  end  of  a  line  is 
reached.  His  tendency  is  to  let  the  voice  fall  toward  the 
close  of  a  sentence,  thus  obscuring  the  last  half  of  the 
line. 

Correct  articulation  demands  attention  to  several  de- 
tails. Every  word  should  be  shghtly  accented.  The 
thought  of  every  sentence  and  speech  should  be  made 
dominant  and  clear.  The  idea  in  each  phrase  should  be 
marked  by  putting  proper  emphasis  on  the  important 
words.  Pauses  should  be  appropriate  to  the  sense  and 
give  repose  to  the  diction.  To  hurry  the  lines  gives  an 
impression  of  stage  fright.  Breath  should  be  taken  in 
the  proper  places  so  that  the  spoken  line  will  not  seem  to 
end  because  of  the  exhaustion  of  the  speaker.  Variety 
should  be  given  to  the  way  the  hues  are  spoken  to  avoid 
a  monotonous  or  sing-song  method  pf  dehvery.  Above 
all,  the  actor  should  seem  to  speak  naturally,  with  a  full 
appreciation  of  the  meaning  of  the  lines  —  and  not  to 
recite  them  as  if  they  were  a  memorized  speech.^ 

Sometimes  the  producer  must  be  on  his  guard  against 
the  too  ambitious  amateur  who  is  so  anxious  to  make  a 
good  impression  upon  the  audience  that  he  overdoes  his 

imperfect  elocution  is  apt  to  degenerate  into  a  monotonous  uniformity  of 
tone." 

^  Cf.  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  in  Dictionnaire  de  Musique,  under  the  word 
Adeur:  "Nothing  is  more  intolerable  and  in  worse  taste  than  to  see  a  hero, 
in  a  transport  of  deep  passion,  constrained  smd  ill  at  ease  in  his  part;  or 
to  hear  him  recite  his  lines  like  a  schoolboy  who  knows  his  lesson  imp)er- 
fectly  —  showing,  instead  of  the  struggles  with  duty  and  inclination,  those 
of  a  bad  artist  with  the  technical  difiSculties  of  his  profession." 


ACTING  119 

part.  Or  again,  he  wiU  try  to  magnify  the  importance  of 
a  minor  role  by  speaking  his  Hnes  with  exaggerated  em- 
phasis, hoping  thereby  to  attract  more  than  his  share  of 
the  audience's  attention.  Less  frequently  such  an  actor 
will  elaborate  his  by-play,  or  stage  business.  Not  only 
do  such  conceited  mannerisms  put  him  out  of  harmony 
with  the  scene,  but  they  detract  from  the  work  of  his 
fellows  by  drawing  all  eyes  toward  him.  As  Hamlet  re- 
marked, this  "shows  a  most  pitiful  ambition  in  the  fool 
that  uses  it."  Acting  is  not  rhetorical  declamation,  as 
Talma,  the  friend  and  contemporary  of  Garrick,  has  said. 
"To  declame  is  to  speak  with  emphasis;  therefore  the  art 
of  declamation  is  to  speak  as  one  does  not  naturally 
speak  —  therefore  let  us  give  up  this  word,  since  it  does 
not  express  the  truth  about  acting."  The  amateur  must 
guard  himself  against  a  false  or  declamatory  emphasis, 
or  if  he  does  not,  the  producer  must  see  to  it. 

Stage  presence,  or  the  way  to  stand  and  move  about  a 
stage,  is  a  simple  matter  in  outdoor  acting,  but  it  is  more 
difficult  to  appear  at  ease  upon  an  indoor  stage.  The 
pageant  director  should  aim  to  eliminate  any  suggestion 
of  theatrical  conventions  in  the  movements  and  gestures 
of  his  pupils.  Let  him  impress  upon  them  that  acting 
does  not  mean  to  throw  one's  self  into  all  sorts  of  atti- 
tudes, nor  to  assume  stiff  and  unnatural  jx)ses.  Of  the 
two  forms  of  acting,  outdoor  and  indoor,  the  open-air 
is  the  more  deliberately  artificial.  The  reason  is  that  it 
is  the  actor's  duty  to  make  himself  heard  at  all  costs. 
Therefore  it  is  better  always  to  accompany  the  spoken 
lines   with   a   shght   movement   or   gesture   to   focus   the 


120       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

audience's  attention  on  the  speaker.  Otherwise  the 
spectators  cannot  readily  pick  out  the  speaker  from  a 
large  group  at  some  distance  from  them.  The  gestures 
themselves  should  be  simple,  calculated  solely  to  give  force 
to  what  is  said.  In  outdoor  acting  gestures  and  movement 
take  the  place  of  facial  expression.  The  latter  requires 
an  intimate  stage.  Even  on  the  indoor  stage,  however, 
the  intricate  play  of  facial  expression  is  beyond  the  power 
of  most  amateurs.  The  director  will  devote  some  of  his 
efforts,  therefore,  to  eliminating  it,  but  will  suggest  as  a 
substitute  the  appropriate  gesture  or  movement. 

Gesture  should  be  typical  of  the  character  represented. 
Each  individual  has  certain  characteristics  which  are 
illustrated  by  his  walk  and  by  his  every  movement.  Thus 
the  pantomimic  action  follows  closely  the  interpretation 
of  the  character  conceived  by  the  actor.  ^  The  spoken 
line  and  its  accompanying  gesture  are  two  halves  of  the 
same  unit.  Equal  thought  and  care  should  be  given  to 
each.  Movement  is  a  supplementary  means  for  conveying 
the  thought  of  the  Hne.  A  meaningless  or  a  hesitating 
gesture  is  to  be  avoided.  An  actor  should  never  make 
use  of  a  gesture  the  purpose  of  which  he  cannot  explain. 
It  follows  that  the  gesture  precedes  the  speaking  of  the 
line  —  at  least,  it  is  usually  begun  before  the  actor  utters 
a  word,  because  one's  normal  instinct  is  to  move  first 
and  speak  only  as  the  idea  involved  takes  shape  in  one's 

*  Cf.  Macready's  remarks,  quoted  by  Henry  Irving  in  The  Drama, 
p.  54;  the  player's  art  is  "to  fathom  the  depths  of  character,  to  trace  its 
latent  motives,  to  feel  its  finest  quiverings  of  emotion,  to  comprehend  the 
thoughts  that  are  hidden  under  words,  and  thus  to  possess  one's  self  of  the 
actual  mind  of  the  individual  mind." 


ACTING  121 

mind.^  To  sum  up,  the  object  of  gesture  is  not  to  add 
rhetorical  effect  to  the  hnes  so  much  as  it  is  to  give  an 
actor  an  appearance  of  perfect  ease  and  naturalness,  to 
show  that  his  words  have  the  same  emotional  meaning 
for  him  as  for  the  hearers.  It  is  for  these  reasons  that  his 
pantomime,  while  simple,  must  be  the  result  of  intelligent 
study.  The  director's  task  is  to  note  the  appropriateness 
of  the  chosen  movements  and,  when  necessary,  to  suggest 
corrections.  As  a  last  word,  the  actor  should  be  reminded 
to  memorize  his  actions  with  his  lines,  in  order  that  his 
interpretation  from  day  to  day  shall  be  consistent. 

So  elementary  a  matter  as  walking  across  a  stage  re- 
quires practice  to  overcome  any  appearance  of  nervousness 
or  seeming  indecision.^  The  stride  is  of  a  length  habitual 
to  the  actor,  and  each  step  is  made  firmly  and  without 
hesitation.  Although  the  rate  at  which  the  actor  walks 
depends  upon  the  emotion  he  is  at  the  moment  conveying, 
the  normal  walk  is  a  Kttle  slower  than  in  real  hfe.  The 
larger  the  stage  and  the  greater  the  distance  from  the 
audience,  the  more  dehberate  is  the  walk.  Time  must  be 
allowed  for  every  effect  to  carry,  and  this  is  true  of  the 
walk  no  less  than  of  the  other  movements.  Any  change, 
however,  from  the  actor's  usual  way  of  walking  must  not 
betray  him  into  affectation,  such  as  dragging  the  feet  after 
the  manner  of  the  old-fashioned  barn-storming  tragedian. 

'  Cf.  Henry  Irving,  Tlie  Drama,  p.  83:  "It  is  necessary  that  the  actor 
should  learn  to  think  before  he  speaks.  .  .  .  Let  him  remember,  first,  that 
every  sentence  expresses  a  new  thoiight  and,  therefore,  frequently  demands 
a  change  of  intonation;    secondly,  that  the  thought  precedes  the  word." 

*  It  must  be  remembered  that  all  attempts  to  describe  acting  in  words, 
instead  of  by  physical  illustrations,  result  inevitably  in  a  certain  exaggera- 
tion  of   statement. 


122        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

If  too  slow,  the  actor  will  appear  awkward  or  affected;  if 
too  rapid,  he  will  seem  nervous  or  may  even  stumble. 
Again,  the  walk  is  indicative  of  character  and  is  therefore 
studied  from  this  point  of  view.  A  timid  character  will 
'  not  cross  the  stage  in  the  same  way  as  a  bluff  person,  nor 
a  fairy  like  a  goddess,  and  so  on. 

A  vain  or  affected  character  has  a  mincing  gait,  an 
air  of  choosing  the  spot  to  place  his  feet  with  some  degree 
of  nicety.  His  feet  seem  almost  instinctively  to  assume 
a  so-called  dancing  position  ^  when  he  pauses,  because  his 
whole  attitude  is  constantly  a  conscious  pose.  Physical 
strength  is  expressed  in  a  rather  heavy  stride,  with  the 
feet  far  apart,  the  body  leaning  forward  aggressively,  and 
the  steps  are  taken  with  unquestioned  firmness.  Walking 
on  tip-toe  is  an  indication  of  mystery,  discretion,  curiosity, 
or  surprise.  Self-important  characters  swagger  and  atti- 
tudinize. Absent-minded  men  pause  or  hesitate,  as  if 
they  had  forgotten  just  what  it  was  they  had  set  out  to 
do.  Strong  emotion  or  indecision  is  indicated  by  rapidly 
walking  up  and  down  the  stage.  Old  men  and  women 
characters  should  walk  with  an  indication  of  their  declining 
physical  powers,  but  without  the  tottering  and  trembling 
so  often  seen  in  these  roles  in  the  theatre.  A  man  need 
not  dodder  about  the  stage  because  he  has  reached  three 
score  and  ten.  Shyness  and  awkwardness  are  difficult  to 
express  naturally,  their  conventional  representations  being 
mere  absurdities.  The  amateur,  in  representing  these 
characteristics,  had  better  under-do  than  over-do  the 
affected  twists  and  turnings  which  the  theatre  has  associ- 

*  I.e.,  toes  turned  out,  one  foot  almost  directly  behind  the  other. 


ACTING  123 

ated  with  these  ideas.  Fear,  surprise,  and  unexpected 
revelations  cause  the  actor  to  start,  not  with  violence, 
but  enough  to  show  that  he  has  grasped  the  full  meaning 
of  what  he  sees  or  hears.  Consequently  he  must  be  care- 
ful not  to  start  ahead  of  time,  or  in  other  words  anticipate 
the  revelation  before  he  receives  the  cue.  In  the  latter 
case  the  effect  of  the  scene  upon  the  audience  will  be 
spoiled. 

In  connecting  the  different  actions  it  is  necessary  to 
observe  the  gradations  which  the  changes  of  thought  in 
the  lines  imply.  Amateurs  must  be  warned  constantly 
to  put  variety  into  both  what  they  say  and  do.  Scenes 
should  not  be  played  on  one  emotional  level  throughout, 
but  the  actor  must  keep  himseff  in  hand  so  as  to  have  a 
reserve  of  strength  and  power  for  a  climax  of  emotion.  If 
the  character  is  acted  at  full  pitch  all  the  way  through  a 
scene,  there  will  be  no  hght  and  shade,  no  contrast,  and 
the  result  will  be  monotony.^  The  producer's  work  is  to 
stimulate  the  imaginations  of  his  amateurs  —  to  make 
them  feel  and  reahze  the  scene.  Their  emotions  respond 
more  readily  to  make-believe  than  is  the  case  with  pro- 
fessionals. Amateurs  generally  cannot  escape  from  self- 
consciousness  unless  real  feeling  is  a  basis  for  their  acting. 
The  professional  has  made  the  expression  of  emotion  a 
business  and  can  command  any  mood  he  wishes.  How- 
ever, if  he  is  not  a  great  artist,  or  a  man  of  long  experience 

'  Cf.  George  Henry  Lewes,  On  Actors  and  ifie  Art  of  Acting,  p.  ii3: 
"It  by  no  means  follows,  as  some  persons  seem  to  imply,  that  l)ecau8e 
exaggeration  is  a  fault,  tameness  is  a  merit.  Exaggeration  is  a  fault  because 
it  is  an  untruth;  but  in  art  it  is  as  easy  to  be  untrue  by  falling  below  as 
by  rising  above  naturalness." 


124       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

in  important  parts,  his  efforts  do  not  have  the  sincerity 
and  conviction  which  a  group  of  amateurs  will  show  when 
under  proper  guidance.  The  amateurs,  of  course,  lack  the 
technical  finish  of  the  professional,  but  they  make  up  for 
this  by  a  greater  enthusiasm.  What  the  producer  has  to 
do  is  to  direct  this  eagerness  into  the  right  channels.  If 
he  can  visualize  his  scene,  his  pupils  will  visualize  it  too; 
and  once  they  have  done  that  they  can  be  led  to  give 
surprisingly  spirited  and  well-varied  series  of  interpre- 
tations. The  gradations  come,  then,  only  after  the  actors 
have  seen  the  episode  in  their  imaginations.  A  good  pro- 
ducer does  not  so  much  teach  acting  as  give  his  amateurs 
this  power  of  visualizing  through  their  imaginations. 

Among  some  of  the  details  of  acting  which  demand 
preparation  are  the  manners  and  actions  of  certain  his- 
torical periods.  A  sword  fight  or  a  fencing  scene  will  be 
made  ridiculous  without  adequate  rehearsal.  In  fighting 
a  duel  it  is  necessary  to  measure  the  ground,  and  settle 
beforehand  on  what  part  of  the  stage  the  fall  or  death 
will  take  place,  so  as  to  prevent  confusion  and  danger  of 
accident.  A  duel  must  necessarily  be  conventional  in 
plan,  unless  the  two  performers  are  skilled  fencers.  Every 
thrust  and  guard  should  be  studied  and  agreed  upon,  as 
well  as  numbered,  so  that  each  movement  is  well  timed. 
The  thrusts  and  guards  must  be  rehearsed  in  a  definite 
order,  slowly  at  first,  and  then  more  rapidly  as  the  actors' 
familiarity  increases.  Above  all,  it  is  necessary  to  keep 
cool  so  as  not  to  diverge  from  the  agreed-upon  plan,  or 
serious  consequences  may  follow.  However  expert  the 
performers  are,  pointed  or  edged  swords  must  never  be 


ACTING  125 

used.    A  dull  sword  can  inflict  a  severe  wound,  if  there  is  any 
mistake  made.    Real  weapons  imply  wholly  unnecessary  risk. 

In  colonial  times  taking  and  offering  snuff  was  a  com- 
mon act  of  courtesy  performed  with  considerable  cere- 
mony. Gentlemen  carried  snuff  boxes  of  costly  design, 
which  they  were  proud  to  display  on  the  slightest  pretext. 
The  box  was  always  offered  in  the  right  hand,  the  hd 
struck  open  by  a  movement  of  the  fingers.  As  the  snuff 
was  presented  to  the  recipient,  the  donor  bowed.  The 
former  then  bowed  in  return  and  took  a  small  pinch  be- 
tween his  thumb  and  forefinger.  The  owner,  transferring 
the  box  to  his  left  hand,  took  another  pinch  and  the  two 
men  bowed  again.  The  hd  was  snapped  to  and  the  snuff 
inhaled  simultaneously  with  grace  and  dehcacy  of  move- 
ment. Then  each  man  flicked  away  with  his  lace  hand- 
kerchief all  traces  that  might  have  fallen  upon  his  shirt 
frills  or  waistcoat.  The  utmost  deliberation  and  formahty 
in  this  pohte  accomphshment  was  always  observed. 

In  kneeUng  it  is  customary  to  drop  to  the  knee  on  the 
side  away  from  the  audience;  that  is,  the  right  knee  will 
touch  the  ground  ff  the  pubhc  is  on  the  actor's  left,  or  the 
left  knee  if  they  are  on  his  right  side.  A  lady's  curtsey 
must  be  done  slowly  and  gracefully,  with  particular  care 
to  preserve  the  balance.  In  shaking  hands,  a  lady  wiU 
simpUfy  the  stage  positions  if  she  always  offers  the  hand 
nearest  the  person  who  addresses  her.  In  managing  a 
dress  with  a  long  train  slow  movements  are  advisable. 
The  train  is  controlled  by  the  hand  and  kept  in  position 
on  the  side  towards  the  audience.  To  back  away,  it  is 
Ufted  clesur  of  the  ground. 


126       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

What  to  do  with  his  hands  often  puzzles  the  inexperi- 
enced actor.  When  not  used  for  gestures,  he  should  let 
them  hang  naturally  by  the  side,  not  stiffly  as  if  on  a 
drill  ground.^  An  erect  carriage  causes  the  arms  and  hands 
to  assume  a  natural  position.  If  the  actor  wears  a  sword, 
one  hand  may  rest  upon  the  hilt  from  time  to  time.  Some- 
times the  actor  may  carry  his  hat  in  his  hand;  ladies  will 
find  a  fan  useful  for  keeping  their  hands  occupied.  The 
chief  thing  is  not  to  appear  conscious  of  one's  hands,  or 
to  make  fussy,  meaningless  movements  with  them  which 
betray  nervousness.  If  the  actor  can  contrive  to  forget 
that  he  has  hands,  except  when  they  are  needed  in  action, 
he  will  do  well.  Another  fault  of  amateurs  is  to  stand  too 
closely  to  the  person  they  are  addressing.  On  the  outdoor 
stage  particularly,  the  figures  should  be  well  spaced.  To 
stand  on  top  of  the  other  actor  prevents  the  audience 
from  having  a  clear  view.  Not  only  allow  the  others 
their  share  of  the  stage,  but  avoid  standing  beside  them. 
In  the  open  air  it  is  necessary  to  speak  towards  the  audi- 
ence; consequently  all  the  stage  positions  are  determined 
by  this  fact.  If  the  actors  are  in  a  straight  line,  one  next 
the  other,  they  will  not  seem  to  be  talking  among  them- 
selves.    Irregular  lines,  with  plenty  of  space  between  the 

^  It  is  more  or  less  an  axiom  of  the  stage  that  when  an  actor  has  nothing 
to  do  with  his  hands,  he  should  do  nothing  with  them.  Other  similar  axioms 
are  summed  up  by  Alfred  Ayres  in  Acting  and  Actors,  pp.  34-5,  as  follows: 
"Never  put  one  hand  behind  your  back;  either  both  or  neither.  Never 
stand  with  your  arms  akimbo,  unless  you  woidd  express  something  by 
doing  so.  Never  put  your  thumbs  in  your  belt.  Never  clutch  the  hilt  of 
your  sword.  Never  toy  with  your  drapery.  Never  forget  that  to  gesticu- 
late over-much  is  a  chsu^cteristic  of  impotency.  Never  forget  that  repose 
is  worth  more  to  an  actor  than  aU  the  cardinal  virtues." 


ACTING  127 

individuals,  allow  the  actors  to  turn  toward  the  audience 
without  loss  of  illusion.  Indoors  they  can  speak  across 
the  stage,  but  even  then  it  is  better  for  the  performers  to 
keep  turned  three-quarters  of  the  way  around.  Not  only 
are  they  more  easily  heard,  but  this  allows  opportunity 
for  the  audience  to  follow  their  facial  expressions.  An 
actor  falls  back  a  step  or  two  when  he  wishes  to  make  a 
strong  impression  upon  the  other  characters,  and  comes 
forward  when  he  is  to  receive  one. 

As  a  general  rule,  in  the  open  air,*  no  actor  will  speak 
a  hne  with  his  back  to  the  audience.  This  was  once  the 
convention  of  the  indoor  stage  as  well,  but  recently  the 
custom  has  been  more  honored  in  the  breach.  To-day,  if 
the  arrangement  of  the  scene  requires  the  actor  to  turn 
his  back,  he  does  so.  It  follows,  though,  that  important 
Unes  cannot  be  spoken  from  this  position.  The  actor  may 
turn  away  to  hide  strong  emotion  or  to  perform  some 
necessary  piece  of  stage  "business,"  otherwise  he  will 
remember  that  his  first  duty  is  to  make  his  lines  heard. 

To  know  how  to  hsten  to  the  dialogue  of  others  is  not 
one  of  the  least  of  an  actor's  talents.  The  tendency  of 
an  amateur,  once  he  has  spoken  his  hne,  is  to  step  out  of 
the  picture  until  it  is  again  his  turn  to  speak.  He  will 
often  appear  quite  undisturbed  by  a  fellow-actor's  most 
fervid  description  of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field. 

'  Cf.  Caffin,  Appreciation  of  the  Drama,  pp.  70-71:  "The  Greek  actor  of 
the  classic  period  must  have  relied  very  little  upon  suggesting  the  illusion 
of  nature.  The  size  of  the  theatre  made  him  speak  with  a  deliberation  that 
was  unnatural.  Nuances  of  facial,  vocal,  and  gestural  expression  must  have 
been  lost.  The  effecU  aimed  at  must  have  been  simple,  broad,  and  em- 
phatic. ...  As  the  actor  waited  fur  his  voice  to  carry,  so  he  no  doubt 
held  his  pose  that  it  might  also  carry." 


128       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

To  be  a  good  listener  on  the  stage  is  to  follow  the  words 
of  others  with  inteUigence,  with  appropriate  gestures,  and 
to  indicate  what  thoughts  and  emotions  these  words  call 
up  in  one's  mind.  And  all  this  must  be  done,  of  course, 
without  distracting  the  attention  of  the  audience  from  the 
speaker.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the  object  of  the  Hstener's 
by-play  to  help  the  understanding  of  the  speaker's  hues. 

The  producer,  as  has  been  suggested,  will  not  try  to 
over-elaborate  the  details  of  pageant  acting.  It  is  true 
that  what  is  done  upon  the  stage  is  as  important  as,  if 
not  more  so  than,  what  is  said,  yet  it  is  better  to  conceive 
the  action  on  broad,  simple  lines.  If  the  director  is  fussy 
the  rehearsals  soon  become  irksome  to  the  performers. 
He  must  never  let  enthusiasm  wane  through  any  fault  of 
his.  If  he  approaches  the  production  of  a  pageant  in  the 
same  spirit  as  he  would  that  of  a  theatrical  performance, 
he  will  not  get  the  results  he  expects.  Acting  in  pageantry 
is  an  art  for  amateius;  to  insist  upon  the  rules  of  the  pro- 
fessional stage  will  reduce  everyone  to  mediocrity,  if  not 
to  something  worse.  It  is  the  spirit  and  understanding 
of  the  performers  that  count;  an  awkward  gesture  or 
occasional  false  intonation  cannot  seriously  mar  the  total 
effect.  But  too  much  time  spent  on  eliminating  minor 
faults  may  easily  kill  the  thing  most  worth  having,  namely, 
the  enthusiasm  of  everybody. 

Finally,  he  will  not  be  satisfied  imtil  he  has  completely 
welded  together  the  cast  in  each  of  the  episodes  —  a 
process  known  in  athletics  as  securing  "team-work."  Each 
player  must  be  taught  the  art  of  playing  up  to  his  fellow- 
actors,  in  order  that  the  efforts  of  all  may  seem  natural 


ACTING  129 

and  spontaneous.  A  scene  must  progress  with  clock-work 
precision  and  yet  not  appear  mechEinical.^  As  a  matter  of 
fact  the  esprit  de  corps  which  enthusiastic  amateurs  easily 
acquire  will  carry  them  a  long  way  toward  the  abihty  to 
play  into  each  other's  hands.  The  producer  has  only  to 
point  out  the  advantage  of  cooperation  in  acting,  and  if 
the  rest  of  his  work  has  been  well  and  conscientiously 
done,  he  may  face  his  opening  performance  with  a  fair 
degree  of  calm. 

^  Cf.  Henry  Irving,  The  Drama,  p.  83:  "AH  the  members  of  a  company 
should  work  towards  a  common  end,  with  the  nicest  subordination  of  their 
individuality  to  the  general  purpose.  Without  this  method  a  play  when 
acted  is  at  best  a  disjointed  and  incoherent  piece  of  work,  instead  of  being 
a  harmonious  whole  like  the  fine  performance  of  an  orchestral  symphony." 


Chapter  VI 
GROUPING 

"  Onto  the  stage,  prepared  by  architect  and  painter,  now  steps  Artistic  Man,  as 
Natural  Man  steps  on  the  stage  of  Nature.  What  the  statuary  and  the 
historical  painter  endeavored  to  limn  on  stone  or  canvas,  they  now  limn 
upon  themselves,  their  form,  their  body's  limbs,  the  features  of  their  visage, 
and  raise  it  to  the  consciousness  of  full  artistic  life.  The  same  sense  that 
led  the  sculptor  in  his  grasp  and  rendering  of  the  human  figure,  now  leads 
the  Mime  in  the  handling  and  demeanor  of  his  actual  body.  The  same  eye 
which  taught  the  historical  painter,  in  drawing  and  in  color,  in  arrange- 
meni  of  his  drapery  and  composition  of  his  groups,  now  orders  the  whole 
breadth  of  actual  human  show."  —  Richard  Wagner. 

GROUPING,  or  the  massing  of  figures  upon  the  stage, 
is  so  important  a  detail  of  pageant  production  that 
it  requires  separate  consideration.  Attention  has  akeady 
been  called  to  the  arrangement  of  colors  in  grouping.  This 
chapter  deals  more  specifically  with  groups  as  plastic  com- 
positions.^ Whether  the  production  is  to  be  given  outdoors 
on  a  natural  stage,  or  indoors  on  a  relatively  narrow  plat- 
form, the  objects  of  grouping  are  the  same  —  namely,  to 
create  a  picture  based  upon  accepted  theories  of  composition. 
Obviously,  however,  the  kind  of  picture  obtained,  and  con- 
sequently its  method  of  composition,  will  vary  with  each 

^  Cf.  Arthur  Symons,  Plays,  Acting,  and  Music,  p.  g:  "We  are  apt  to 
look  on  the  chorus  in  Greek  plays  as  almost  a  negUgible  part  of  the  struc- 
ture. .  .  .  We  know,  however,  that  the  chorus  was  the  original  nucleus  of 
the  play,  that  the  action  on  which  it  seems  to  comment  is  no  more  than  a 
development  of  the  chorus." 


GROUPING  131 


change  in  the  type  and  surroundings  of  the  stage,  and  hke- 
wise  will  depend  upon  the  mood  of  the  individual  scenes. 

Line  and  form  are  the  governing  factors  in  group  compo- 
sition. These  in  turn  are  obtained  by  spacing  or  massing 
the  figin-es,  and  by  the  harmony  and  proportion  of  the 
groups  in  relation  to  the  space  occupied  and  to  the  back- 
ground. Too  often  in  outdoor  drama  and  pageantry  pro- 
ducers seem  to  feel  that  given  enough  performers  they  can 
gain  effects  by  sheer  masses;  —  that  numbers  by  themselves 
are  a  sufficient  appeal  to  the  imagination.^  As  a  result,  not 
enough  time  and  care  is  spent  in  designing  and  rehearsing 
the  groups.  Again,  as  a  practical  question,  it  is  a  difficult 
matter  to  get  large  numbers  of  performers  to  attend  to- 
gether at  regular  rehearsals,  so  that  the  producer  is 
hampered  by  absentees  in  carrying  out  his  plans.  This 
difficulty  can  never  be  entirely  overcome,  but  it  may  be 
diminished  if  proper  enthusiasm  is  instilled  into  the  actors. 
A  producer  with  well-worked-out  plans  is  not  only  in  a 
position  to  solve  his  artistic  problem,  but  his  theories  of 
grouping,  once  they  are  grasped  by  his  co-workers,  will 
assist  in  stimulating  interest  and  thus  assure  weU-attended 
rehearsals.  For  both  these  reasons,  therefore,  he  must  not 
appear  to  others  to  proceed  empirically.  His  plans  must 
be  so  definite  that  there  will  seem  to  be  method  in  any 
alterations  which  rehearsals  convince  him  are  necessary. 
Thus  he  will  inspire  confidence  in  what  he  is  trying  to  do, 

*  Cf.  Nietzsche  on  Tragedy:  "We  now  see  that  the  sta^e  and  the  action 
are  conceived  only  as  a  vision:  that  the  sole  'reality'  ia  precisely  the  chorus 
which  itself  produces  the  vision,  and  expresses  it  by  the  aid  of  the  whole 
symbolism  of  dance,  sound,  and  word."  (Quoted  by  Arthur  Symons,  op. 
eit.,  p.  lo.) 


132       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

since  it  will  be  seen  that  he  is  working  for  a  known  end. 
Nothing  is  more  discouraging  to  amateurs  or  more  destruc- 
tive of  their  confidence,  than  for  a  producer  to  be  uncertain 
of  what  he  wants.  Finally,  the  best  of  any  producer  is  his 
abihty  to  manage  and  dispose  of  large  groups.^ 

It  is  now  time  to  turn  to  the  discussion  of  the  principles 
on  which  grouping  depends,  and  then  to  consider  differences 
arising  from  outdoor  and  indoor  productions. 

In  the  first  place,  effective  grouping  is  based  upon  the 
laws  of  pictorial  composition.  Unlike  the  artist,  with  his 
paint  and  canvas,  however,  the  producer  is  working  in 
three  dimensions,  with  figures  that  move  and  shift  their 
positions,  sometimes  rapidly,  sometimes  slowly.  Needless 
to  say,  this  enormously  comphcates  the  problem.  That  is 
why  rehearsals  are  needed,  as  much  to  correct  the  pro- 
ducer's theories  as  to  train  the  performers.  He  designs 
the  grouping  for  a  scene,  tries  its  effect  at  a  rehearsal, 
and  then  makes  his  required  alterations.  But  as  has  been 
said  earher  in  the  chapter,  his  experiments  are  not  a  hap- 
hazard shuffling  about  of  his  figures  until  he  stumbles  upon 
a  satisfactory  grouping.  Rather  are  the  changes  based 
upon  correcting  by  actual  visualization  the  pictures  which 
perhaps  had  imperfectly  formed  themselves  in  his  mind's 
eye. 

His  preliminary  plans  rest  upon  a  desire  to  select  and 
combine  the  details  of  a  scene  in  harmonious  relation  to  one 
another  and  thus  to  give  unity  to  the  whole  conception. 

'  Cf.  Gordon  Craig,  On  the  Art  of  the  Theatre,  p.  21:  "Let  me  tell  you  at 
the  commencement  that  it  is  the  large  and  sweeping  impression  produced  by 
means  of  scene  and  the  movement  of  the  figures  which  is  undoubtedly  the 
most  valuable  means  at  your  disposal." 


GROUPING  133 


Of  the  numberless  possible  ways  which  may  be  employed 
in  grouping  figures  in  a  given  scene,  that  must  be  un- 
doubtedly the  best  which  is  suggested  by  the  nature  of  the 
scene  itself.  It  should  comprehend  its  greatest  scope  and 
energy  and  give  just  value  and  importance  to  the  principal 
figures  or  the  most  important  action.  The  scene  should 
not  be  encumbered  with  meaningless  groups,  or  with 
movements  which  do  not  contribute  to  the  cooperation  of 
all  the  parts. ^  Finally,  all  art  depends  upon  suggestion, 
upon  creating  the  desired  illusion. 

Thus  at  the  outset  it  will  be  noted  that  there  are  two 
types  of  scenes  whose  methods  of  composition  vary:  in 
certain  scenes  the  important  elements  are  two  or  more 
characters,  to  whom  the  groups  are  subsidiary;  in  others, 
the  events  represented  are  of  greater  importance  than  any 
of  the  individuals.  An  example  of  the  first  sort  would  be, 
say,  General  Washington  receiving  the  sword  from  the 
hands  of  Lord  CornwaUis  in  token  of  the  latter 's  surrender. 
The  second  type  of  scene  would  be  a  battle  between  fines 
of  opposing  troops.  The  former  is  static  at  the  moment  of 
greatest  interest,  with  the  attention  focussed  upon  the 
figures  of  the  two  generals.  The  latter  is  all  movement, 
with  rapidly  shifting  points  of  interest  and  with  no  pre- 
dominating individuals. 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  the  surrender  of  CornwaUis, 
the  dominating  figure  around  whom  the  scene  is  composed 
is  that  of  General  Washington.  He,  therefore,  would  stand 
near,  but  not  in  the  exact  centre  of  the  stage,  facing 
toward  the  audience,  perhaps  a  three  quarters'  view  would 

•  Barry,  Lectures  on  Painting,  ed.  R.  N.  Womum,  London,   18/48. 


134       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

be  best.  On  one  side,  but  apart  from  Washington,  would 
be  grouped  his  staff,  so  arranged  that  the  hues  would  lead 
the  eye  naturally  toward  the  important  personages.  Back 
of  them  again  would  be  massed  the  American  troops,  in 
synunetrical  Unes,  having  as  a  secondary  comf>osition  point 
a  large  battle-flag.  The  effect  of  mass  and  weight  of 
numbers  would  be  indicated  as  belonging  to  the  American 
troops  and  their  French  aUies ;  therefore  they  would  occupy 
the  background  of  the  whole  composition.  Comwallis  and 
the  British  staff  officers  would  stand  with  their  backs  partly 
turned  to  the  audience,  the  lines  of  their  advance  leading 
toward  the  figure  of  Washington.  Finally,  the  composition 
would  be  balanced  on  the  left  by  a  group  of  prisoners 
standing  under  guard. 

It  is  obvious,  however,  that  the  second  type  of  scene, 
consisting  of  rapid  movement,  is  more  difficult  to  produce. 
Only  general  instructions  can  be  given,  but  if  the  scene  is 
a  battle,  then  there  will  naturally  be  a  moment  of  climax, 
or  highest  tension  in  the  action,  followed  by  a  gradually 
descending  scale  of  slower  movement.  The  producer  will 
work  toward  building  up  his  climax  with  rapidly  increasing 
interest,  and  will  aim  to  secure  emphasis  when  the  height 
of  the  action  is  reached.  Every  cooperating  object,  group, 
and  subsidiary  action  must  appear  in  its  own  proper  and 
most  available  situation.  Intention  must  govern  through- 
out, and  nothing  be  left  to  chance.  It  is  the  business  of 
the  producer's  imagination  to  discern  in  his  own  mind  aU 
the  possible  circumstances  of  the  action;  to  select  and  unite 
whatever  is  most  essential,  most  interesting,  and  of  the 
greatest  consequence  to  the  energetic  carrying  forward  of 


GROUPING  135 


the  action;  and  to  be  able,  at  the  same  time,  to  reject  and 
suppress  any  useless  or  distracting  elements  which  the  jBrst 
conception  may  have  suggested  to  him.  Once  the  climax 
has  been  reached,  the  action  must  terminate  without  loss 
of  eflfect.  Since  the  outdoor  stage  possesses  no  curtain, 
the  action  cannot  be  cut  off  at  the  moment  of  highest 
tension,  as  is  frequently  done  in  the  theatre.  The  dispersal 
of  the  groups  must  be  managed  without  loss  either  of 
pictorial  or  dramatic  effect  —  a  thing  easier  to  say  than  to 
do.  The  best  way  is  to  have  recurring  waves  of  action, 
each  diminishing  in  intensity,  after  the  main  climax,  imtil 
the  stage  is  finally  cleared.  Upon  the  actors  must  be 
impressed  the  fact  that  down  to  the  least  conspicuous 
member  of  every  group,  they  are  the  persons  they  represent 
from  the  moment  they  enter  the  stage  until  they  leave  it. 
This  does  not,  however,  mean  that  the  members  of  the  groups 
are  to  strive  to  make  their  personahties  or  their  acting  con- 
spicuous. They  must  not  step  out  of  the  unit  group  to  which 
they  belong,  even  for  an  instant.  Their  personahties  are 
rigidly  subordinated  to  the  requirements  of  the  group. 

Each  type  of  scene,  that  is  the  static  and  the  kinetic,  must 
be  studied  both  as  a  separate  problem  in  grouping,  and  in 
its  relation  to  the  other  scenes  of  the  spectacle.  In  each 
case,  the  underlying  principle  of  the  grouping  depends  upon 
line  and  form.  Through  these  two  elements  the  idea  or 
intention  of  the  scene  is  conveyed.  One  cannot,  as  Walter 
Crane  has  pointed  out,'  put  a  number  of  forms  together  (in 
this  case,  human  figures)  without  some  sort  of  relation, 
either  of  general  character  and  contour,  or  some  uniting 

*  Line  and  Form,  p.  ir»7. 


136       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

line.  Each  group  must  be  designed  with  relation  to  the 
enclosing  line,  or,  if  one  prefers,  to  the  silhouette  of  the 
mass.  The  producer  first  visualizes  the  edges  of  his  pro- 
posed masses,  and  then  designs  the  lines  so  that  they  are 
expressive  of  the  idea  or  movement  intended.  Thus,  as  a 
general  rule,  uniformity  of  grouping  produces  an  effect  of 
grandeur,  and  a  variegated  composition,  beauty.  The 
extreme  of  either  uniformity  or  variety  is  to  be  avoided. 
A  dull  repetition  of  the  same  things  is  in  the  end  tiresome; 
on  the  other  hand,  a  too  great  variety,  or  affectation  of 
continued  and  strongly-marked  diversity,  distracts  the 
attention  and  weakens  the  imagination  of  the  audience. 

The  object  in  grouping  is  to  enable  the  spectators  to 
view  the  whole  scene  as  a  single  composition  —  to  compre- 
hend it  in  its  entirety.^  Therefore  it  is  necessary  that  its 
several  parts  (however  variegated  in  their  details)  be  skil- 
fully linked  together  by  the  enclosing  fines  so  as  to  form 
one  general  appearance.  There  is  always  one  central 
focus  of  interest  to  which  everything  else  on  the  stage 
contributes.  The  several  groups  are  the  masses  of  the 
whole  composition.  They  must,  then,  be  diversified  either 
in  their  magnitude,  or  in  the  lines  of  their  contour,  or  in 
both.  Of  these  groups,  or  masses,  one  ought  to  be  princi- 
pal, and  all  the  others  dependent  and  subordinate.  The 
principal  mass  or  group  wiU  contain  the  focus  of  interest 
and  is,  of  course,  arranged  with  this  in  mind. 

1  Cf.  the  theory  of  Professor  Max  Reinhardt  that  the  purpose  of  a 
theatrical  spectacle  is  to  appeal  to  the  senses  of  the  spectators  without 
wearying  them.  Also  Gordon  Craig:  In  the  Greek  drama,  "it  was  the  move- 
ment of  the  chorus  which  moved  the  onlookers."  Towards  a  New  Theatre, 
p.  8. 


GROUPING  137 


Furthermore,  whatever  is  the  general  outline  of  the  re- 
lated figures,  it  should  be  neither  too  regular,  nor  too  com- 
plicated. The  proportion  of  each  group,  in  its  relation  to 
the  centre  of  interest,  and  to  the  surrounding  or  related 
groups  must  be  kept  in  mind.  Here  again  proportion  de- 
pends upon  the  importance  of  the  part  each  group  plays  in 
the  scene.  Last  of  all,  the  finished  composition  must 
appear  well-balanced  —  that  is,  the  groups  must  be  so  dis- 
posed that  the  space  upon  the  stage  is  filled,  as  otherwise 
the  spectators'  eyes  will  be  drawn  toward  the  gaps  and 
away  from  the  focus  of  interest.  Besides,  large  spaces 
leave  certain  groups  detached  and  unrelated  to  the  others. 
A  balanced  composition  has  also  symmetry  —  not  the 
geometrical  symmetry  of  exact  munbers  or  of  line  and  mass 
arranged  in  a  mathematical  pattern,  but  a  symmetry 
attained  rather  through  the  harmony  and  appropriateness 
of  the  elements.  As  in  the  structure  of  the  spectacle  as 
a  whole,  variety  in  unity  is  what  the  producer  strives  to 
attain  in  the  handhng  of  his  group  compositions.^  His 
constant  endeavor  is  to  secure  variety  without  making  it 
apparent  that  his  groups  are  studiedly  artificial.  Their 
disposition  must  be  natural  —  such  as  the  scene  demands 
—  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  result  of  the  producer's 
efforts  must  be  a  picture  composition  so  satisfying  to  look 
upon  that  the  audience  will  not  question  how  it  was  done.^ 

*  Cf.  Gordon  Craig  On  the  Art  of  the  Theatre,  p.  S/j:  "Masses  must  be 
treated  as  masses,  as  Rembrandt  treats  a  mass,  as  Bach  and  Beethoven  treat 
a  mass,  and  detail  has  nothing  to  do  with  mass  .  .  .  you  do  not  make  an 
impression  of  mass  by  crowding  a  quantity  of  details  together." 

*  It  is  perhaps  worth  noting  that  a  group  composition,  however  striking, 
must  not  be  prolonged,  or  the  attention  of  the  audience  is  fatigued  and  they 
fail  to  appreciate  the  effect  of  the  remainder  of  the  scene. 


138       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Upon  the  outdoor  stage,  grouping  has  to  be  managed 
■with  far-away  perspectives  *  and  natural  lighting.  There 
can  be  no  use  of  artificial  fight,  save  in  evening  perform- 
ances, to  assist  the  producer  in  obtaining  emphasis  upon 
his  centre  of  interest.  Therefore  the  problem  of  open-air 
dayfight  performances  is  different  from  that  of  night  or  indoor 
representations.  Assume,  however,  that  the  average  out- 
door stage  has  three  distances  —  a  far-off  perspective,  a 
middle-ground  stiU  comparatively  remote  from  the  audi- 
ence, and  a  foreground  as  near  as  may  be.  Three  general 
classes  of  groups  are  determined  by  these  three  distances. 
The  far-away  perspective  may  be  used  for  entrances  and 
exits,  for  processions  and  recessionals,  for  Indians  or  troops 
approaching  to  the  attack,  for  the  arrival  of  the  stage- 
coach and  similar  episodes  requiring  neither  dialogue  nor 
minutely  visible  detafi.  The  middle-distance  is  given  up 
to  battle  scenes  and  to  aU  episodes  requiring  numbers  and 
rapid  movements.  In  the  foreground  occur  the  dialogue 
scenes  or  the  scenes  in  which  a  few  individuals  are  con- 
spicuously prominent,  as  weU  as  solo  dances  and  the 
smaUer  dance  interludes. 

Another  condition  which  allows  the  producer  more  flexi- 
bility in  disposing  his  figures  is  that  the  outdoor  stage  is 
so  vast  that  the  mathematical  centre  loses  the  importance 
it  has  in  the  theatre.  The  centre  here  is  the  centre  of 
interest,  and  that  may  be  shifted  from  side  to  side,  or  for- 
ward and  backward,  as  desired,  thus  aUowing  more  variety 
in  grouping,  while  at  the  same  time  demanding  more  care 

*  Cf.  Arthur  Eahane  in  Ghssen  zum  Theater  der  Funftausend:  "Vast space 
demands  the  simplest  of  forms,  and  strong,  big,  severe  lines." 


GROUPING  139 


in  composition.  It  is  easier  to  arrange  the  performers  in 
symmetrical  groups  about  the  centre  of  the  stage  than  it  is 
to  place  the  action  either  on  the  right  or  the  left.  How- 
ever, simply  because  this  plan  is  easier  does  not  excuse  a 
producer  for  adhering  to  it  throughout.  Suppose,  for 
example,  that  a  colonial  governor  is  about  to  receive  a 
deputation  of  Indians.  It  is  better  to  place  the  governor 
and  his  attendants  on  one  side  of  the  stage,  so  that  the 
audience  have  an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  far  perspective 
whence  the  Indians  are  to  appear.  Messengers  arriving 
from  that  direction  give  the  spectators  warning  to  keep 
their  attention  on  the  far  distance.  Then  the  slow,  pro- 
cession-like approach  of  the  Indians  may  be  made  most 
effective  and  natural,  as  they  emerge  one  by  one  and  wind 
across  the  long  intervening  space  before  reaching  the  gov- 
ernor's presence.  Thus  a  scene  not  necessarily  dramatic  in 
itself  may  be  rendered  interesting  by  attention  to  its  pic- 
torial values.  Compare  this  with  the  same  scene  having 
the  governor  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  stage  directly 
before  the  audience,  and  the  Indians  arriving  from  a  side 
entrance  near  by.  They  would  have  transacted  their  busi- 
ness with  the  governor  without  the  spectators  being  aware 
of  the  picturesque  caravan  of  em  Indian  tribe  upon  the 
march.  Nor  would  there  be  any  anticipation  of  their 
arrival  —  no  suspense.  The  whole  scene  would  be  matter 
of  fact  and  business-Uke. 

In  general,  movement  upon  the  middle-distance  should 
be  in  lines  parallel  to  the  audience  —  as  troops  advancing 
across  the  stage  to  attack  others  intrenched  upon  the  oppo- 
site side.     In  tliis  way  the  maximum  effect  of  the  move- 


140       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

ment  is  perceived.  The  lines  of  the  advancing  figures  in 
battle  naturally  would  not  be  straight,  as  is  the  case  with 
soldiers  at  drill,  but  irregular  or  curved.  In  like  manner 
large  static  groups  in  the  middle-distance,  facing  the  audi- 
ence, should  be  arranged  on  a  curved  line,  approximately 
forming  a  half-circle,  and  not  in  wedge-shaped  Unes,  such 
as  are  frequently  used  in  the  professional  theatre.  Again, 
it  is  impossible  to  compose  an  artistic  picture  in  the  middle- 
distance,  if  the  spectators'  seats  extend  along  the  side  of 
the  stage  beyond  the  space  occupied  by  the  foreground. 
No  producer  can  dispose  his  groups  on  a  large  scale  so  that 
a  view  of  them  is  effective  from  all  angles. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  not  the  same  objection  to 
spectators'  lining  the  sides  of  the  foreground,  for  it  is  here 
the  episodes  occur  in  which  individuals  are  the  centre 
of  interest,  and  all  groups  are  kept  subordinate  to  the 
speakers.  The  groups  are  used  on  the  foreground  partly 
to  narrow  down  the  stage,  to  cut  off  the  view  of  the  far 
perspective,  to  give,  in  other  words,  the  effect  of  an  inti- 
mate stage,  while  of  course  retaining  their  pictorial  values. 
But  they  should  not  surround  the  speakers  so  closely  as  to 
impede  a  side  view.  The  disposition  of  foreground  groups, 
once  more,  is  not  in  a  straight  but  a  curved  or  irregular 
line,  the  central  mass  so  placed  that  it  draws  the  eye 
toward  the  most  important  actors,  and  the  subsidiary  masses 
contributing  to  leading  the  hues  of  sight  in  that  direction. 

To  sum  up  the  problems  of  grouping  on  the  outdoor 
stage,  the  producer  has  to  compose  pictures  containing 
perspectives  on  a  much  larger  scale  than  is  the  case  indoors. 
Consequently  his  work  is  in  a  certain  way  more  difficult. 


GROUPING  141 


although  the  difficulties  are  to  some  extent  offset  by  the 
fact  that  he  has  natural  scenery  and  hghting  to  aid  him. 
He  has  to  take  careful  note  of  the  problems  of  the  far, 
middle,  and  near  stages,  and  to  treat  each  as  a  separate 
factor  in  his  designs.  Finally,  he  must  hold  fast  to  his  prin- 
ciples of  pictorial  composition  and  leave  nothing  to  chance, 
or  to  the  vain  hope  that  he  will  muddle  through  the  perform- 
ance on  the  strength  of  numbers  and  beautiful  costumes. 

On  the  indoor  stage  the  matter  of  grouping  is,  in  general, 
one  of  shallow  perspectives.  The  question  more  closely 
resembles  the  painter's  art.  A  long,  narrow  stage  approxi- 
mates the  flat  canvas  against  which  the  painter  places  his 
figures.  Thus  the  producer,  hke  the  painter,  has  the  choice 
of  two  methods  of  treatment.  He  may  proceed  reahsti- 
cally  and  endeavor  to  create  an  illusion  of  depth  and  per- 
spective by  artful  management  of  his  composition,  or  he 
may  frankly  treat  his  scenes  decoratively,  that  is  to  say, 
he  may  work  something  after  the  manner  of  a  pattern 
designer  or  a  painter  of  friezes.  It  is  difficult,  if  not  artis- 
tically impossible,  to  suggest  the  vast  spaces  of  the  open 
air.^  The  commercial  theatre  has  tried  it,  but  never  with 
convincing  success.  A  middle  distance  cannot  be  attained 
on  a  wooden  platform  a  few  feet  square,  however  cleverly 
the  backdrop  may  be  painted  or  however  reahstically  the 
details  of  the  foreground  may  be  worked  out.  As  the 
actors  go  up-stage,  the  middle  distance  vanishes  and  they 
come  into  ludicrous  contact  with  the  perspectives  of  the 

*  Cf.  the  discussion  by  Fritz  Erier  of  this  general  fallacy  of  competing 
with  nature  in  Aiuslellung  der  Buhnenenlwiirfe  (Faust,  Hamlet).  There  are 
also  many  references  scattered  through  Gordon  Craig's  writings. 


142       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

background.  Therefore  of  recent  years  certain  producers 
have  abandoned  the  attempt  at  reahstic  treatment  of  out- 
door scenes  on  the  indoor  stage  and  have  gone  frankly  over 
to  decorative  methods.^ 

In  discussing  the  building  and  arrangement  of  the  indoor 
stage,  the  value  of  the  neutral,  unlocalized  background  was 
pointed  out,  because  it  was  economically  and  artistically 
more  suitable  for  the  many  changing  episodes  of  the  pa- 
geant and  equally  appKcable  to  community  drama.  The 
neutral,  permanent  draperies  of  such  a  stage  imply  a  deco- 
rative handling  of  the  groups.  But  while  the  word  "deco- 
rative" forbids  the  so-called  realism  of  the  theatre,  it  does 
not  limit  the  producer  to  any  lack  of  variety  in  his  subse- 
quent work.  "Decorative,"  as  apphed  to  the  stage,  simply 
means  that  the  groups  and  episodes  are  studied  primarily 
as  pictorial  comp>ositions  having  a  shallow  perspective, 
with  the  more  important  elements  of  the  picture  arranged 
in  a  single  plane,  or  in  certain  combinations  of  lines  and 
masses.  The  producer  may  take,  as  a  basis  for  his  work, 
any  form  of  decorative  art  from  a  Greek  bas-rehef  frieze  ^ 
to  a  Japanese  color  print.  Upon  his  skill  and  judgment  in 
making  his  choice,  however,  depends  the  appropriateness 
of  his  finished  pictures  to  the  pageant  theme  he  is  illus- 
trating. Thus  there  occurs  at  once  a  sharp  division  be- 
tween the  treatment  of  an  allegorical  interlude  and  of  a 
historical  or  realistic  scene.    The  costume  of  each  j)eriod 

1  This  question  is  well  discussed  by  Georg  Fuchs  in  Die  Bevolulion  des 
Theaters. 

*  The  first  attempt  at  a  fresco  or  bas-relief-like  treatment  was  made  in 
Russia  by  Meyerhold  emd  Stanislavsky  in  their  projected  production  of 
Maeterlinck's  La  Mori  de  Tiniagiles. 


Ma.«s  and  Line  (Jroi  p 


Photo  by  Ira  Hill,  X.  )' 


(ilMH  PIN(;.        IviXtOltS 

{('•reck  (inrnrs       Miiniiird) 


I'holo  hy  Ira  mil,  X .    ) 


GROUPING  143 


conditions,  to  a  certain  degree,  his  foundation  elements. 
The  figures  of  colonial  times  are  not  to  be  combined  as  if 
they  were  members  of  a  Greek  frieze,  nor  would  modem 
industriahsm  be  represented  after  the  manner  of  a  Japanese 
print.  On  the  other  hand,  each  of  the  periods  suggested  as 
examples  possesses .  characteristics  on  which  the  decorative 
treatment  of  the  scene  may  be  based. 

For  instance,  a  scene  portraying  the  wealthier  classes  of 
Colonial  times  is  regarded  first  of  all  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  formalism  which  governed  the  manners  of  the  day. 
Dignity,  calmness,  self-restraint,  and  artificiahty  are  among 
its  characteristics.  These  the  producer  will  endeavor  to 
bring  out  through  deUberate  movement  and  stately  poses. 
He  will  use  the  maximum  perspective  which  his  platform 
stage  allows,  but  without  bringing  his  figures  down  onto 
his  circular  fore-stage,  if  he  has  one.  In  addition  to  a 
study  of  the  pictures  of  the  great  masters  of  the  English 
school,  such  as  Gainsborough  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  (to 
name  only  two),  he  will  look  at  the  porcelains  of  this 
period,  particularly  those  with  figure  and  landscapes 
painted  in  medaUions.  What  were  the  theories  of  decora- 
tive art  in  those  days?  he  will  ask  himself,  and  when  he 
has  gathered  his  materials,  he  will  then  plan  his  groups. 

In  like  manner  he  will  proceed  with  an  episode  typifying 
modem  industrialism.  Here  the  problem  is  to  express  the 
vigor  and  power  of  man's  effort  and  the  machines  through 
which  this  energy  works.  Again,  there  are  many  modern 
artists  from  whom  hints  and  suggestions  may  be  obtained, 
—  Frank  Brangwyn,  Jaseph  Pennell,  and  others.  Such  a 
scene  requires  the  illusion  of  a  vast  crowd.    A  true  crowd 


144       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

upon  the  stage  is  impossible,  unless  one  chooses  to  call 
twenty  to  fifty  people  a  crowd,  but  by  the  skilful  dis- 
position of  the  figures,  the  appearance  of  a  crowd  is  easily 
obtained,  and  that  without  using  any  actual  depth  of  per- 
spective. When  the  stage  seems  to  be  filled  and  no  open 
spaces  are  visible,  the  crowd  will  seem  to  be  present.^ 

Each  episode  is  therefore  studied  as  a  separate  problem 
in  grouping,  the  final  object  being  to  express  in  decora- 
tive terms  the  spirit  of  the  period  represented.  At  the 
same  time,  the  relation  of  each  scene  to  the  unified  con- 
ception of  the  entire  production  is  not  lost  sight  of.  An 
enumeration  of  the  more  formal  principles  of  pictorial 
composition  may  be  of  assistance  to  the  producer. 

To  repeat,  unity  of  the  composition  is  achieved  by  decid- 
ing that  one  feature  shall  be  more  important  than  all  the 
rest,  and  that  other  features  shall  be  disposed  in  a  subordi- 
nate relationship.  This  one  feature  may  be  (on  the  indoor 
stage)  light,  a  figure  more  prominent  than  the  other  figures, 
a  group,  or  a  mass  of  color  dominant  over  all  the  other  masses. 

As  in  the  use  of  color,  repetition  of  similar  groups  pro- 
duces an  effect  of  calmness  and  repose.  Repetition  is  not 
necessarily  expressed  through  balance  of  parts  or  through 
symmetry,  but  preferably  as  diminishing  echoes  of  the 
principal  group.  Mathematical  symmetry,  except  for  con- 
sciously disposed  ceremonial  groups,  such,  for  example,  as 
the  manoeuvres  of  a  Greek  chorus,  should  be  avoided, 
because  it  is  unnatural. 

*  Cf.  Gordon  Craig,  On  the  Art  of  the  Thealre,  p.  26:  "You  must  be  able. 
to  increase  the  impression  of  your  numbo^  without  actually  adding  another 
man  to  your  forty  or  fifty." 


GROUPING  145 


Similar  to  repetition  is  the  principle  of  continuity.  Here 
the  law  of  perspective  is  brought  to  the  producer's  aid,  if 
he  is  working  on  a  large  outdoor  stage,  and  his  groups  are 
arranged  so  as  to  emphasize  the  narrowing  hues  of  a  true 
perspective.  On  the  indoor  stage  a  false  continuity  of 
grouping  is  often  seen,  where  the  lines  narrow  too  sharply 
to  be  really  effective. 

In  treating  stage  grouping  in  a  series  of  curved  lines, 
again  care  must  be  taken  not  to  make  the  curvature  too 
symmetrical.  As  Ruskin  has  reminded  us,  graceful  curva- 
ture is  distinguished  from  ungraceful  by  two  characteristics : 
first,  its  moderation,  that  is  to  say,  its  close  approach  to 
straightness  in  some  part  of  its  course;  and,  secondly,  by 
its  variation,  that  is  to  say,  its  never  remaining  equal  in 
degree  at  different  parts  of  its  course. 

If  the  principle  of  hne  treatment  depends  upon  radia- 
tion, the  Hues  all  originating  from  one  point,  or  moving 
toward  it,  however  much  they  intersect  or  seem  to  vary,  the 
common  point  of  departure  or  arrival  must  never  be  lost. 
Nor  should  any  purposed  variation  obscure  their  general 
focus,  or  radiating  centre. 

Contrast  in  grouping  is  as  important  as  it  is  in  color. 
Every  form  and  line  may  be  made  more  striking  to  the  eye 
by  an  opponent  form  or  line  near  it;  a  curved  hne  is  set 
off  by  a  straight  one,  a  heavy  mass  by  a  shght  one,  and 
so  on.  Contrast  in  grouping  is  as  necessary  as  contrast  in 
color;  too  frequent  and  obvious  a  use  of  the  device  vul- 
garizes the  effect.  Contrasts  are  preferably  not  sudden, 
but  the  eye  should  be  gradually  led  from  one  contrasting 
group  to  the  other,  save  of  course  where  the  contrast  of 


146       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

two  groups  is  deliberately  made  violent  for  dramatic  effect. 
One  of  the  most  important  applications  of  contrast  is  in 
association  with  continuity,  causing  an  unexpected  but 
gentle  break  in  a  continuous  series. 

Closely  connected  with  the  principle  of  contrast  is  that 
of  interchange,  by  which  the  unity  of  two  opposite  things 
is  enforced  by  giving  to  each  a  portion  of  the  character  of 
the  other.  It  is  sometimes  only  a  reversal  of  contrasts,  the 
alternation  of  certain  elements  from  one  group  to  another. 

Finally,  the  disposition  of  the  groups  must  be  in  the  end 
consistent  and  harmonious.  By  consistent  is  meant  that 
they  shall  seem  natural,  not  strained  or  in  artificial  atti- 
tudes relative  to  the  subject-matter  of  the  scene.  The 
object  of  the  composition  is  to  weld  the  whole  picture 
together,  not  to  disperse  groups  about  the  stage  in  stereo- 
typed poses  which  may  be  effective  in  themselves.  They 
must  be  a  consistent  part  of  the  picture.  Harmony  of 
grouping  simply  imphes  an  appropriate  disposition  of  the 
figures  so  that  at  all  times  the  groups  are  helping  to  teU 
the  story.  However  decorative  the  treatment,  the  groups 
have  a  larger  function  than  merely  serving  as  a  background 
for  the  action.  They  are  themselves  a  part  of  the  action, 
often  its  most  important  part,  even  the  whole  of  it,  and 
therefore  they  must  be  planned  and  studied  with  this  in 
mind.  Once  more,  even  the  experienced  producer  will  find 
his  model  stage  of  chief  assistance  in  working  out  his  com- 
positions. It  will  not  show  him  his  groups  in  movement,  — 
only  rehearsals  can  do  that,  —  but  it  will  give  him  his 
principal  moments  of  rest,  the  composition  points  from 
which  the  action  starts. 


Chapter  VII 
COLOR 

THE  pictorial  effect  of  a  successful  pageant  or  drama 
depends  upon  three  things:  sound,  hght,  and  move- 
ment. Color  is  one  of  the  functions  of  hght,  and  in  outdoor 
pageantry  it  is  of  even  greater  importance  than  hght  itself. 
The  art  of  color  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  of  aU  problems, 
as  any  painter  wiU  admit.  It  is  not  enough  to  have  cos- 
tumes that  are  correct  historically,  skilfully  managed 
groups,  and  rhythmic  movement  of  masses,  if  at  the  end 
the  colors  of  the  figures  form  violent  or  harsh  discords. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  theories  of  artists,  physicists, 
psychologists,  and  writers  on  aesthetics,  all  of  whom  have 
much  to  say  about  color,  are  of  assistance  only  in  the 
most  general  way  to  the  stage  director.^  The  artists  speak 
of  color  as  apphed  to  flat  smfaces  which  are  at  rest;  the 
physicists  tell  of  its  abstract  qualities  as  seen  in  the 
behavior  of  light  rays;  the  psychologists,  of  certain  labora- 
tory experiments  on  a  small  scale,  designed  to  teach  us  its 
values  in  terms  of  human  emotions;  and  the  writers  on 
aesthetics  mostly  disagree  among  themselves.  None  of 
these  has  much  to  say  about  the  problem  of  shifting  color 

'  C.  F.  Ruskin,  The  Elements  of  Draicing,  p.  i6o:  "If  you  need  examples 
of  utterly  harsh  and  horrible  color,  you  may  find  plenty  given  in  treatises 
upon  coloring,  to  illustrate  the  laws  of  harmony." 


145        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

seen  in  bright  sunlight  against  a  background  of  vivid 
greens,  or  considers  the  complexities  of  color  composition 
caused  by  the  artificial  hghting  of  an  indoor  stage. 

Experience,  good  taste,  and  coimtless  experiments  with 
his  model  stage  will  be  more  valuable  to  the  pageant  di- 
rector than  any  system  of  theoretical  rules;  nevertheless, 
there  are  certain  elementary  principles  underlying  the 
theory  of  color-grouping  that  are  necessary  as  a  foundation. 
Only  a  brief  summary  of  the  more  important  facts  wiU  be 
attempted  in  this  chapter.  In  its  physical  aspects,  white 
light  (or  sunhght),  when  broken  by  a  prism  into  its  spec- 
trum, produces  a  band  of  colors  which  occur  in  the  follow- 
ing order:  red  nearest  where  the  white  ray  would  have 
fallen,  then  orange,  yellow,  green,  blue,  indigo,  and  violet. 
The  different  kinds  of  color  are  called  hues;  when  they 
correspond  to  the  state  in  which  they  are  found  in  the 
spectrum  they  are  known  as  full  or  high  colors.  Darker 
and  hghter  colors  are  determined  by  reference  to  the  spec- 
trum as  a  standard  of  comparison.  If  they  are  darker 
than  the  corresponding  color  in  the  spectrum,  their  different 
degrees  of  darkness  are  termed  shades.  WTien  full  colors 
are  made  hghter,  their  different  degrees  of  hghtness  are 
called  tints;  if  very  much  hghter,  they  are  spoken  of  as  pale 
or  broken.  The  degree  of  coloring,  or  of  dark  or  hght  in 
a  shade  or  tint,  determines  the  tone,  as  when  reference  is 
made  to  a  golden  or  gay,  or  a  gray  or  sombre  tone.  In  like 
manner,  a  positive  color  is  one  in  which  the  shade  or  tint 
of  a  single  hue  is  prominent;  a  neutral  color,  one  which  is 
so  much  of  a  mixture  that  there  is  no  predominating  hue. 
It  is  important  to  learn  the  correct  terms  in  which  to 


COLOR  149 

describe  colors  in  order  to  avoid  the  confusion  so  often 
arising  from  faulty  or  indiscriminate  reference  to  color- 
values. 

Colors  are  often  divided  into  the  so-called  primary  — 
red,  yellow,  and  blue  —  and  the  secondary  —  orange,  green, 
and  violet.  This  classification  is  based  on  the  mixing  of 
pigments,  red,  yellow,  and  blue  being  the  primitives  which, 
when  mixed  in  pairs,  produce  orange,  green,  and  violet. 
Another  division  results  in  grouping  the  complementary 
colors.  The  complementary  colors  are  those  which,  mixed 
together,  produce  white.  This  does  not  mean  that  the 
pigments  of  these  colors,  if  combined,  will  yield  white,  but 
that  their  rays,  when  blended  by  the  prism,  unite  to  form 
white  hght. 

Again,  it  is  necessary  to  remember  that  color  is  never 
absolutely  self-contained,  but  is  always  more  or  less  modi- 
fied by  its  neighbor  or  neighbors.  Colors,  therefore,  may 
be  either  brightened  or  subdued  by  proximity  to  others. 
The  complementary  colors  enhance  each  other's  brilliancy; 
non-complementary  colors  diminish  each  other's  beauty 
and  efi'ect.  The  laws  of  complementary  and  contrasting 
colors  are  the  general  principles  on  which  theoretical  color 
combination  rests. 

In  theory  the  complementary  colors  may  always  be 
placed  side  by  side,  and  this  gives  the  following  possible 
combinations:  red  and  bluish  green;  orange  and  pure  blue; 
yellow  and  ultramarine  blue  (indigo);  yellowish-green  and 
violet;  and  green  and  purple.  Von  Bezold's  scale  of  colors 
adds  to  these:  carmine  and  bluish  green;  vermilion  and 
turquoise-blue;  orange  and  ultramarine;  yellow  and  bluish 


150       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

violet;  and  yellowish  green  and  purplish  violet.^  A 
painter's  scale  of  complementaries,  which  is  more  practical 
for  the  purpose  of  design,  is  as  follows:  ruby-red  and  bluish 
green;  red-orange  and  sky-blue;  orange  and  blue-violet; 
orange-yellow  and  violet;  yellow  and  red- violet;  yeUow- 
green  and  ruby-red;  green  (emerald)  and  red-orange; 
blue-green  and  orange;  blue  and  orange-yellow;  blue- 
violet  and  yellow;  violet  and  yeUow-green;  and  red- violet 
and  green.  This  is  based  upon  water-color  pigments  and 
may  be  conveniently  used  as  a  standard. 

The  theoretical  triple  combinations  are:  orange,  green, 
and  purple;  red,  yellow,  and  blue;  carmine,  yellowish 
green,  and  ultramarine;  vermiKon,  green,  and  bluish 
violet;  orange,  bluish  green,  and  purplish  violet;  and 
yellow,  turquoise-blue,  and  violet.  In  making  four  color 
combinations,  the  principle  is  to  take  two  pairs,  one  in  each 
of  which  pairs  is,  in  the  spectrum,  near  one  in  the  other, 
and  then  to  arrange  all  the  colors  so  that  those  which,  in 
the  spectrum,  are  near  together  shall  not  meet.  For  ex- 
ample, a  four-color  combination  would  be  purple  and  green 
together  with  carmine  and  turquoise-blue.  However,  when 
the  matter  becomes  as  comphcated  as  this,  the  designer 
will  trust  more  to  his  actual  experiments  than  he  will  to 
overmuch  theory. 

The  question  of  what  quantities  or  proportions  of  com- 
plementary colors  to  use  in  combination  involves  the  con- 
sideration of  still  another  classification.     Greens,  blues,  and 

*  Much  of  the  material  used  in  these  pages  is  drawn  from  Chap.  XVIII 
of  The  Essentials  of  Esthetics,  by  (Jeorge  Lansing  Raymond,  New  York, 
igo6.    See  also  Bibliography. 


COLOR  151 

purples  are  known  as  cold  colors,  while  reds,  oranges,  and 
yellows  are  called  warm.  In  nature  the  cold  colors  pre- 
dominate, at  least  in  our  northern  latitudes.  The  back- 
ground of  an  outdoor  stage  is  green;  the  distant  hills  are 
blues  and  purples.^  The  warm  colors  are  less  frequent,  and 
even  when  found  in  the  sunset  sky  and  in  the  autumn 
fohage,  in  the  hues  of  flowers  and  the  plumage  of  birds, 
represent  fleeting,  evanescent  things.  The  warm  glow  of 
the  sunset  sky  endures  but  a  brief  time;  even  the  scarlet 
maples  shed  their  leaves  after  a  few  days.  They  strike 
their  note  of  beauty  strongly,  then  vanish.  The  warm 
colors  do  not  persist  in  masses,  nor  are  they  often  seen; 
rather  they  are  the  exceptions  in  nature's  color  scheme.^ 
This  fact  gives  the  pageant  designer  his  cue.  The  warm 
colors  need  to  be  used  sparingly  against  their  cold  back- 
ground, or  else  their  employment  must  be  for  a  distinct 
emotional  purpose,  corresponding  to  the  mood  of  the  scene. 
If  his  object  is  merely  to  bring  out  the  briUiancy  of  his 
background  of  green,  a  httle  vivid  red  is  all  that  is  needed. 
Harmony  of  color,  therefore,  depends  not  only  upon  the 
arranging  of  right  colors  together,  but  the  arranging  of  the 
right  quantities  and  the  right  degrees  of  them  together. 
Furthermore,  the  harshest  contrasts,  even  sometimes  dis- 
cords, may  often  be  brought  into  harmony  by  added  notes.^ 
Here  again  the  experimental  judgment  must  be  guide.* 

Most  important  of  all  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
pageant  designer  is  the  fact  that  the  appeal  of  color  when 

'  Note  Ruskin,  Elements  of  Drawing,  p.  i65:    "All  distant  color  is  pure 
color."  *  Cf.  Lucy  Crane.  Art  and  the  Formation  of  Taste,  p.  io6ff. 

»  Cf.  W.  R.  Letharby.  Stained  Glass  Work,  p.  an. 
*  Cf.  Ruskin,  ibid.,  p.  i6i. 


152       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

presented  in  masses  is  an  emotional  one.  The  harmony 
or  discords  of  the  color  plan  produce  in  the  spectator 
certain  moods,  arouse  in  him  definite  feeUngs.  The  anal- 
ogy between  music  and  color  in  their  emotional  aspects  is 
frequently  dwelt  upon,  but  there  is  no  space  here  to  pursue 
this  theory.  It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  there  is  a  close 
correspondence  between  them  and  one  which  the  writer  of 
music  for  the  interludes  and  episodes  must  take  into  ac- 
count.^ The  mood  or  tone  to  be  expressed  by  any  particu- 
lar scene  should  control  the  elements  of  the  color  plan. 
For  example,  all  low  and  uniform  shades,  even  of  yellows, 
oranges,  and  reds,  have  a  quieting  efi'ect,  and  all  high  and  all 
contrasting  tints,  even  of  purples,  blues,  and  greens,  have 
an  exciting  effect.  The  low  tones  indicate  what  is  serious, 
grave,  dignified,  and  self-controlled;  when  the  tones  are 
high  and  varied  they  express  the  opposite.  Uniformity  of 
color  produces  a  certain  seriousness,  with  dignity  of  eifect; 
any  procession,  the  members  of  which  are  dressed  alike, 
will  achieve  something  of  this,  irrespective  of  the  quahty 
of  the  coloring.^  Thus  in  the  St.  Alban's  pageant  there 
was  a  chorus  of  monks  in  wine-colored  cowls  whose  stately 
passage  across  the  stage  was  one  of  the  most  impressive 
elements  in  the  spectacle.  Of  course  there  is,  however,  a 
vast  difference  between  the  degree  of  seriousness  and  dig- 
nity in  the  effect,  say,  of  this  procession  of  monks  at  St. 
Alban's,  and  in  that  of  soldiers  uniformed  in  bright  colors. 
In  the  emotional  effects  produced  by  certain  color  com- 
binations, black  and  white  play  a  large  part.  A  few 
examples  will  suffice  to  indicate  briefly  the  variations  which 

^  See  Chap.  X  on  Music.  *  Raymond,  op.  cil..  Chap.  XVIII. 


COLOR  153 

these  "colors"  introduce  into  the  pageant  designer's  plan. 
Black,  when  blended  with  cold  colors,  produces  an  impres- 
sion of  awe  and  horror.  The  black  must  be  quite  promi- 
nent, and,  merely  to  render  the  figures  clearly  perceptible, 
must  be  ofifset  in  some  places  by  cold  colors  of  compara- 
tively light  tints.  These  result  in  some  violent  contrasts 
whose  effect  is  to  excite  perplexity  and  apprehension,  while 
the  total  color  scheme  is  benumbing  and  chilhng.  Obvi- 
ously, therefore,  the  producer  would  not  adopt  this  com- 
bination for  a  light  and  merry  dance  interlude.  Black  in 
proximity  to  yellow,  orange,  or  red  has,  on  the  other  hand, 
emotional  warmth  —  a  feehng  of  dread  combined  with  ac- 
tive resistance  to  the  thing  feared.  This  is  also  true,  if 
for  black  are  substituted  very  dark  grays,  greens,  blues,  or 
purples.  These  blends  are  the  colors  of  storms  and  hght- 
ning,  of  tempests  at  sea  —  all  the  nature  forces  which  man 
knows  to  be  most  dangerous.  Such  color  schemes  are 
associated  with  tragedy  and  sombre  things.  They  can  be 
used  only  on  an  outdoor  stage  where  the  setting  suggests 
wild  and  rugged  nature,  or  at  night.^  The  bright  sunshine 
of  a  summer  afternoon  would  make  the  suggestion  of 
tragedy  through  the  color  scheme  difficult,  if  not  impossible. 
White  is  valuable  in  color  contrasts  of  all  kinds;  it  is 
not,  however,  good  to  use  it  alone.  With  the  cold  colors  — 
blues,  greens,  or  purples  —  it  suggests  coolness,  and  so  we 
frequently  find  it  combined  with  these  in  summer  costumes. 
With  red,  orange,  or  yellow,  the  effect  is  both  exhilarating 
and  entrancing.     With  black  it  is  suitable  for  particular 

'  In  the  author's  Magic  of  the  Hills,  the  stage  was  a  rough,  rocky  hill-side 
which  made  storm  effects  and  the  corresponding  color  scheme  possible. 


154       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

effects  of  contrast.  Finally,  ivory-whites  and  cream-whites 
are  warm  and  consequently  quite  different  in  feehng  and 
character  from  dead-  or  blue-whites.  Usually  the  warm 
white  is  to  be  preferred. 

It  will  often  be  necessary  for  the  pageant  designer  to  be 
familiar  with  the  symbohc  use  of  colors,  particularly  if  he 
is  dealing  with  mediaeval  or  allegorical  settings.  Some  of 
these  usages  are  famihar  to  everybody;  others  no  longer 
are  remembered  by  the  general  pubhc.  The  commoner 
significations  of  various  colors  as  exemplified  in  Christian 
art  are  included  because  of  their  wide  apphcabihty.  In 
details,  however,  the  symbohc  use  of  colors  varies  from 
one  country  to  another,  and  even  from  one  cathedral  to 
the  other.  Therefore,  the  following  fist  does  not  pretend 
to  be  exhaustive. 

White  has  been  used  with  symbohc  meaning  longer  than 
any  other  color.  Such  widely  scattered  people  as  the 
Egyptians,  Greeks,  and  East  Indians  have  all  employed  it 
as  representative  of  innocence  of  soul,  of  purity  of  thought, 
of  hohness  of  life.  The  priests  of  Osiris  wore  it,  as  did  the 
worshippers  of  Zeus',  the  votaries  of  Brahma,  the  initiates 
in  the  Dniidic  rites,  and  the  Roman  Vestal  Virgins.  In 
the  early  Christian  church,  those  newly  admitted  to  the 
fellowship  wore  white  garments.  So  did  the  bishops, 
priests,  and  deacons  down  to  the  time  of  St.  Jerome.  It 
was  associated  with  the  Virgin  Mary  and  with  the  saints 
who  had  not  suffered  martyrdom.  It  was  used  also  at 
dedications,  harvest  festivals,  and  (as  at  present)  at  con- 
firmations and  weddings.  In  the  Middle  Ages  white  had 
become  the  general  Lenten  color;  not,  however,  from  its 


COLOR  155 

association  with  the  idea  of  rejoicing  or  of  purity.  It 
signified,  instead,  the  absence  or  veihng  of  all  color.  Later 
on,  the  white  altar  cloths  were  elaborately  embroidered 
with  the  symbols  of  the  passion,  done  in  briUiant  colors. 
The  white  hangings  were  exchanged  for  red  during  the  last 
fortnight  of  Lent,  while  Good  Friday  varied  from  red, 
through  purple  and  violet,  to  black.  White  was  frequently 
worn  for  mourning  as  late  as  the  time  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots.  In  China  to-day  white  is  the  color  of  mourning, 
and  has  been  from  ages  past.  Generally  speaking,  white 
is  worn  by  women  as  the  emblem  of  chastity;  by  rich 
men  to  indicate  humihty;  and  sometimes  by  judges  as  a 
symbol  of  integrity.  It  is  the  color  of  purity,  virginity, 
innocence,  faith,  joy,  and  fight.  In  heraldry,  white  may 
be  replaced  by  silver  or  the  diamond.  "Argent,"  as  the 
name  for  silver  or  white,  did  not  appear  in  heraldry  until 
the  sixteenth  century. 

Red,  as  appfied  to  spiritual  virtues,  signified  an  ardent 
love  or  a  burning  zeal  for  the  faith.  It  was  also  a  symbol 
of  royalty,  of  divine  love,  of  the  holy  spirit,  of  creative 
power,  and  of  heat;  in  a  worldly  sense,  it  typifies  energy 
and  courage;  in  an  evil  sense,  cruelty,  blood-guiltiness,  war, 
and  hatred.  It  was  used  on  the  feasts  of  the  martyrs  and 
at  Whitsuntide.  In  the  former  instance  it  was  an  emblem 
of  the  blood  shed  for  Christ;  in  the  latter,  of  the  tongues 
of  fire  which  descended  on  the  Apostles.  The  Pope,  when 
he  heard  mass,  was  vested  in  red,  and  at  his  death  was 
clothed  in  the  same  color.  It  is  worn  by  cardinals.  Scar- 
let in  the  Rible  was  a  symbol  of  honor  and  prosperity. 
Crimson  is  frequently  used  in  ecclesiastical  decoration.     Of 


156       COMMUNITY  DPIAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

all  the  colors,  red  seems  to  have  been  the  vaguest  in  mean- 
ing as  used  by  ancient  writers;  they  called  it  purple,  crim- 
son, or  scarlet — "purpureus,"  "hyancinthus,"  "coccineus," 
and  other  terms.  In  heraldry  red  represents  fire  and  was 
used  to  incite  com-age  and  magnanimity.  It  was  often 
called  "gules,"  and  more  rarely  "vermeil."  Red  and  black 
combined  were  the  colors  of  Satan,  purgatory,  and  evil 
spirits.  Red  and  white  roses,  apart  from  their  poHtical 
significance  in  England,  were  emblems  of  love  and  inno- 
cence, or  love  and  wisdom. 

Green  has  always  been  the  characteristic  color  of  the 
springtime,  and  hence  stood  for  hope.  Among  the  ancient 
Britons  the  instructor  in  the  virtues  of  herbs  and  the 
mysteries  of  leech-craft  wore  green.  It  has  sometimes  been 
a  symbol  of  contemplation.  In  the  Middle  Ages  it  was 
associated  with  the  Feast  of  the  Trinity.  Although  yellow 
was  formerly  the  color  of  jealousy,  Shakespeare's  reference 
to  the  "green-eyed  monster"  transferred  the  meaning  of 
green  for  all  time.  Mediaeval  folk-lore  regarded  green 
unfavorably,  from  the  fact  that  it  was  beheved  to  be  the 
favorite  color  of  the  fairies  —  this  before  the  fairies  were 
regarded  as  beneficent  beings.  On  the  other  hand,  Robin 
Hood  and  his  merrie  men  always  wore  "Lincoln  green." 
In  one  or  two  rare  hturgical  books,^  green  is  given  as  an 
alternative  color  for  black  in  the  oflice  for  the  dead. 
Heraldry  calls  green  "vert,"  occasionally  "synobiU."  Blue 
is  the  symbol  of  heaven,  of  heavenly  love  and  truth,  of 
constancy  and  fidelity.  It  stands  for  eternity,  faith,  truth, 
loyalty,  and  spotless  reputation.     The  bards  or  poets  of 

*  Liber  Sacerdotalis,  Venice,  iSS?;  Liber  Clericorum,  i55o. 


COLOR  157 

the  early  Britons  wore  blue,  and  their  warriors  daubed 
themselves  with  a  blue  dye  known  as  woad.  In  heraldry 
blue  is  usually  called  "azure." 

Purple  seems  to  have  been  associated  with  royal  majesty 
as  an  emblem  of  imperial  power  from  very  early  times. 
The  Babylonians,  for  example,  arrayed  their  gods  in  purple 
robes;  the  toga  of  the  Roman  Emperors  on  the  day  of 
their  triumph  was  purple.  Ecclesiastically,  purple  and 
violet  are  devoted  to  penance  and  fasting.  Violet,  how- 
ever, was  sometimes  a  symbol  of  passion  or  suffering,  and 
even  of  love  or  truth. 

Yellow  has  been  conspicuous  for  its  double  meaning. 
As  gold  (the  "or"  of  hereddry)  or  a  clear  yellow,  it  was  the 
emblem  of  the  sun,  of  the  goodness  of  God,  of  marriage 
and  fruitfulness.  In  this  case  it  can  signify  love,  constancy, 
dignity,  and  wisdom.  In  the  Bible  it  is  a  symbol  of  royalty 
and  power.  A  dingy  or  less  bright  yellow,  on  the  other 
hand,  stood  for  jealousy,  treason,  inconstancy,  and  deceit. 
Judas  was  often  represented  as  wearing  a  yellow  robe.  In 
some  countries  Jews  were  compelled  to  wear  yellow.  In 
France,  during  the  sixteenth  century,  the  doors  of  felons 
and  traitors  were  painted  this  color. 

Gray,  or  ash  color,  was  sometimes  substituted  for  purple 
as  a  Lenten  color,  especially  on  the  continent.  It  was  also 
the  emblem  of  humility,  or  accused  innocence.  Black 
meant  darkness,  wickedness,  and  death.  It  belonged  to 
Satan.  It  was  the  color  of  mourning  (as  to-day)  and  of 
shame  and  despair.  In  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  associated 
with  witchcraft,  and  magic  was  called  the  "Black  Art." 
In  the  thirteenth  century  it  was  a  custom  in  churches  on 


158       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Christmas  Eve  to  have  a  threefold  vesting:  first  of  black, 
to  signify  the  time  before  the  declaration  of  the  law  to 
Moses;  on  the  removal  of  this,  white,  to  represent  the  days 
of  prophecy;  and  then  red,  to  symbolize  the  love  and 
diarity  to  mankind  the  coming  of  Christ  brought  into  the 
world.    Heraldry  refers  to  black  as  "sable."  ^ 

To  turn  to  a  more  practical  study  of  color,  the  pageant 
director  must  face  the  question  of  obtaining  an  artistic 
result  on  his  stage.  There  are  three  general  ideas  gov- 
erning the  selection  of  color  for  the  outdoor  pageant:  (a) 
the  designer  has  to  make  a  pictm-e  harmonizing  with 
the  natural  setting;  (6)  his  colors  have  to  correspond,  in 
general  effect,  with  the  costmne  period  of  each  episode; 
(c)  whenever  possible,  without  doing  violence  to  the  first 
two  principles,  the  colors  must  also  suggest  the  mood  or 
tone  of  the  scene.  Furthermore,  the  color  scheme  of  the 
entire  pageant  should  be  a  harmonious  whole;  it  is  not 
enough  to  have  each  episode  treated  as  a  unit,  even  if  the 
individual  scenes  show  an  artistic  result  when  standing  by 
themselves.  In  the  finale,  the  color  masses  of  the  episodes 
will  come  together  in  one  large  grouping,  and  the  designer 
must  be  prepared  to  pass  this  test  as  well. 

An  outdoor  setting  prevents  the  choice  of  too  arbitrary  a 
range  of  possible  color  tones.  As  has  been  stated,  sombre 
effects  are  hardly  possible  in  brilliant  sunshine  —  a  thing 
which  the  writer  of  the  text  should  also  bear  in  mind.  To 
show  a  gray  morning  with  mist  lying  in  the  vaUeys  is  not 

*  The  sections  on  color  symbolism  are  based  mainly  upon  Symbolism  in 
Christian  Art,  by  F.  Edward  Hulme,  6th  ed.,  London,  19 lo,  and  the  Hand- 
book of  Legendary  and  Mythological  Art,  by  C.  E.  Clement. 


COLOR  159 

practical  at  high-noon.  It  is  better  to  assume  at  the  out- 
set that  the  stage  will  be  bathed  in  sunhght  and  that  the 
foreground  will  be  distinct  in  a  transparent  atmosphere. 
On  the  other  hand,  sunhght  heightens  bright  colors  and 
makes  them  more  intense;  hence  a  briUiant  color  scale  has 
to  be  very  carefully  graded  not  to  appear  harsh  and  crude 
outdoors.^  The  contrasts  are  violent  and  need  toning 
down.  It  is  an  easier  matter  to  harmonize  half-tints  than 
full  bright  colors.  "  Nature's  pattern  book  is  filled  chiefly 
with  half-tones  and  mixed  tints."  ^  Finally,  each  scene 
should  have  a  key  or  dominating  color  with  which  the  other 
hues  of  that  episode  harmonize,  while  again  these  key 
colors  should  form  a  harmonious  scale  one  with  the  other. 
The  first  step  is  to  plan  the  color  masses  for  each  inter- 
lude and  episode,  leaving  details  out  of  consideration.  This 
is  a  problem  which  is  always  more  or  less  limited  by  the 
material  available  for  the  costumes.  The  firms  which 
manufacture  these  materials  furnish  pattern  books  showing 
the  range  of  colors  in  which  the  goods  can  be  suppfied.  In 
smaller  pageants,  the  director  may  dye  his  own  stufis,  but 
this  is  hardly  practical  on  a  large  scale.  He  should  con- 
struct from  the  range  of  materials  obtainable  as  close  an 
approximation  to  his  standard  water-color  scale  as  possible 
—  that  is,  let  him  first  choose  twelve  samples  as  near  ruby- 
red,  red-orange,  orange,  and  so  on  through  the  scale,  as 
possible,  leaving  out  of  consideration  for  the  moment  any 
mixtures  or  neutral  colors.    What  he  needs  first  is  a  stand- 

'  Cf.  Ru-skin.  op.  cit.,  p.  iT^-x:  "Gradation  is  to  color  what  curvature  is  to 
lines,  both  being  felt  to  be  beautiful  by  the  pure  instinct  of  every  human 
mind."  '  Line  and  Form,  by  Walter  Crane,  Lx)ndon,  iqoo,  p.  355. 


160       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

ard  to  which  he  can  refer  his  other  materials,  and  to  enable 
him  to  place  intermediate  tints,  shades,  and  mixed  hues  in 
their  correct  position  in  the  foundation  scale.  Having 
ascertained  what  colors  he  has  available,  the  designer  pro- 
ceeds to  make  a  paste-board  model  to  scale  of  his  stage. 
This  need  only  be  of  the  roughest  workmanship,  provided 
its  proportions  are  correct.  Next  he  takes  card-board 
squares,  proportionate  in  size  to  the  groups  to  be  used,  and 
covers  these  cards  with  the  colored  material  he  has  in 
mind.  These  squares  are  set  up  on  the  model  stage  in  the 
relative  positions  the  performers  and  groups  will  occupy 
in  the  actual  scene,  and  the  effect  studied.  It  only  remains 
then  to  shift  and  alter  his  cards  until  he  obtains  what  he 
considers  a  satisfactory  result.  It  goes  without  saying 
that  he  will  keep  his  model  stage  in  the  bright  sunlight  of 
the  open  air,  and  hght  it  from  the  same  angle  as  the  real 
stage  will  be,  while  he  is  making  his  experiments. 

Every  movement  of  the  groups  indicated  by  the  stage 
directions  must  also  be  tested  with  the  squares  to  insure 
that  rearrangements  of  the  stage  will  not  turn  harmonies 
into  discords.  By  comparatively  simple  methods,  the  most 
comphcated  color  harmonies  may  be  worked  out,  without 
recourse  to  theoretical  considerations.  As  each  episode 
has  its  scheme  determined  and  noted  down,  it  is  then 
necessary  to  try  them  one  after  the  other,  to  see  if  equal 
harmony  residts  from  the  succession  of  the  scenes.  Last 
of  all,  a  good  deal  of  time  and  attention  must  be  given  to 
the  color  arrangement  of  the  finale,  when  all  the  groups 
will  either  be  massed  on  the  stage  together,  or  defile  past 
the  audience. 


COLOR  161 

When  the  pageant  designer  is  able  to  dye  his  own 
materials,  he  wiU  work  on  his  model  stage  in  water-colors, 
since  he  may  try  for  any  shade  or  tint  he  pleases.  This 
is  natm^aUy  more  satisfactory  than  to  be  tied  to  manu- 
factm-ers'  color  scales;  nevertheless,  the  latter  now  make 
such  a  wide  range  of  materials  that  the  advantages  of 
dyeing  one's  own  stuifs  are  more  apparent  than  real.  It  is 
not  an  easy  matter  to  mix  dyes  that  will  correspond  to  the 
hues  of  the  paint-box ;  consequently,  unless  the  director  has 
had  a  good  deal  of  experience,  he  will  find  the  first  method 
easier. 

On  the  professional  stage  the  traditional  plan  of  color 
arrangement  is  to  put  aU  the  vivid  reds  in  front,  gradually 
toning  the  various  colors  down  to  neutral  tints  at  the 
extreme  rear  of  the  stage.^  The  theory  is  that  reds  will 
show  through  any  other  colors;  hence,  if  at  the  rear,  they 
will  overshadow  or  kiU  the  less  brilliant  colors  in  front. 
In  a  general  sense,  the  same  thing  is  true  out  doors.  Bright 
colors  appear  nearer  the  audience  than  dull  hues.^  If 
scattered  about  recklessly  the  briUiant  hues  give  a  spotty 
effect.  The  figures  or  groups  in  sunlight  should  wear 
Ught  tints,  unless  a  strong  note  is  needed  for  a  particular 
purpose,  while  the  groups  in  shadow  should  wear  dark 
shades  to  blend  with  the  background. 

Reference  has  already  been  made  to  a  key  or  foundation 
color  governing  not  only  each  episode  but  forming  a  basis 
for  the  whole  color  scheme.     A  few  illustrations  of  scales 

*  Im  Machinerie  TM&lrale:  Trues  el  Deeors,  by  George  Moynet,  Paris; 
chapt<T  on  Im  Mise  en  Se^ne. 

*  Nevertheless,  compare  the  contrary  statement  of  Iluskin,  op.  cil.,  p.  i63. 


162       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

which  have  been  worked  out  experimentally  may  be  of 
value.  As  a  safe  rule,  it  is  well  to  work  either  in  a  range 
of  cool  tints,  or  the  reverse,  a  warm  and  rich  one.^  Let 
it  be  supposed  that  the  director  has  to  plan  for  a  series  of 
interludes  separated  one  from  the  other  by  historical  epi- 
sodes. In  his  interludes  he  is  usually  not  tied  to  historical 
costume,  so  that  he  is  free  to  make  his  plan  on  a  scheme  of 
pure  colors.  The  following  scale  represents  strong  effects: 
ruby-red,  deep  orange,  yellow,  yellow-green,  blue-green, 
blue-violet,  red-violet.  Here  are  seven  colors  forming  a 
harmonious  scale  which  may  serve  as  the  foundation  plan 
for  the  whole.  If  the  painter's  scale  of  complementaries  is 
consulted,^  it  will  be  noted  that  the  first  three  are  comple- 
mentary to  the  last  three  —  that  is,  the  complement  of 
ruby-red  is  blue-green,  and  so  on,  while  yellow-green,  the 
central  color  of  the  scale,  has  as  its  complement  ruby-red. 
Those  facts  control  omissions  from  the  scale,  since  it  would 
not  usually  be  advisable  to  omit  one  key  color  without 
also  omitting  its  complementary.  In  like  manner,  prin- 
cipal combinations  within  the  scale  are  governed  by  the 
theory  of  complementaries.  A  scale  giving  somewhat 
different  effects  would  be:  ruby-red,  red-orange,  orange- 
yellow,  yellow-green,  blue-green,  blue,  and  violet.  Again, 
the  scale  is  formed  by  three  colors  with  a  central  color 
having  as  its  complementary  the  first  member  of  the  scale, 
followed  in  order  by  the  three  complementaries  of  the  first 
colors  named.  The  same  rule  about  complementaries 
apphes  once  more  to  omissions  and  combinations  within 

^  Walter  Crane,  Line  and  Form,  p.  267. 
*  On  page  i5o. 


COLOR  163 

the  scale.  ^  It  is,  perhaps,  as  well  to  add  that  the  scale 
may  begin  at  either  end  or  with  any  color,  provided  the 
order  within  the  scale  is  not  changed.  If  the  scale  is 
shortened,  one  may  start  at  either  end,  and  cut  off  one  or 
more  colors  there,  not  in  the  middle  or  at  haphazard. 
With  each  color  dropped  will  go  its  complementary. 

In  determining  what  proportions  of  colors  to  choose  from 
a  given  scale,  the  designer  is  influenced  by  the  emotional 
effect  he  desires  to  produce.  Both  of  the  scales  cited 
begin  with  warm  colors  and  range  through  to  cold.  In  each 
case,  however,  the  warm  color,  if  used  in  equal  quantities, 
will  overbalance  the  others.  In  both  these  scales  the  true 
dominating  note  happened  to  be  the  blue-green,  and  the 
warm  colors  were  used  chiefly  to  enhance  the  briUiancy 
of  the  colder  portion.  Again,  for  individual  scenes,  each 
of  the  colors  in  a  scale  may  be  used  alone,  variety  and 
beauty  of  effect  being  obtained  by  gradations  of  its  nu- 
merous tints  and  shades.  The  latter  method  is  a  safe  one 
for  the  inexperienced,  while  in  many  cases  where  simphcity 
or  uniformity  of  tone  is  aimed  at,  it  is  requisite. 

So  far,  it  wiU  have  been  noted,  the  color  scales  referred 
to  as  iUustrations  have  consisted  entirely  of  the  fuU  colors 
or  eke  mixtures  of  primaries.  There  now  comes  in  the 
question  of  variants  caused  by  mixing  positive  and  neutral 
colors  with  the  scale.  And  as  before,  the  safest  method 
is  to  rely  upon  the  stage  model.  A  few  suggestions,  how- 
ever, may  serve  as  starting  points.    The  wines  or  plum- 

'  These  scales  were  chosen  for  illustration  because  they  combine  within 
themselves  a  harmonioun  relation  of  warm  colors  to  the  cold  colors  of  an 
outdoor  background.  They  are  the  result  of  experiment  rather  than  of 
theory. 


164       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

colored  shades  will  go  between  ruby-red  and  emerald-green; 
brown  in  all  its  shades  and  tints  between  red-orange,  orange, 
and  orange-yellow  on  the  one  hand,  and  blue-green,  blue, 
and  blue-violet  on  the  other;  ohve,  between  yellow  and 
violet;  grays,  between  violet,  blue-violet,  and  blue  on  one 
side,  and  yellow,  yellow-orange,  and  orange  on  the  other. 
The  browns  are  closely  related  to  red-orange,  orange,  and 
orange-yellow;  the  grays,  to  violet,  blue- violet,  and  blue. 
The  positive  colors  are  simply  modifications  of  the  color 
scales  cited  and  their  place  in  the  scale  is  determined  by 
the  color  which  predominates.  Neutral  colors  may  stand 
between  their  elements  (the  colors  which  compose  them) 
without  any  intermediary.  The  matter  can  best  be  seen 
by  forming  a  color  scale  modified  by  positives:  deep  wine, 
orange-brown,  light  ohve,  apple-green,  gray-green,  blue- 
violet-gray,  red-violet-gray.  This  corresponds  to  the  first 
scale  on  page  162.  It  is  the  same  scale  darkened  or  toned 
down  from  the  fuU  colors  of  the  original.  It  may  gradually 
be  deepened  to  any  series  of  shades  desired,  until  all  the 
colors  are  reduced  to  black.  The  other  scale,  darkened  in 
the  same  way,  becomes:  deep  wine,  orange-brown,  yellow- 
brown,  light  ohve,  gray-blue-green,  hght  blue-gray,  violet- 
gray.  This  too  may  be  darkened  at  will.  In  the  same 
way,  the  corresponding  tints  may  replace  the  darker  shades 
in  the  two  scales.  The  point  which  it  is  desired  to  empha- 
size is  that  the  two  painter's  scales  give  a  good  basis  for 
unlimited  experiment,  while  they  at  the  same  time  introduce 
a  skeleton  group  of  harmonious  colors  on  which  to  build. 
Color  contrasts  as  employed  in  pageantry  may  be  described 
as  conscious  or  deliberate  interruption  of  a  harmonious  scale. 


COLOR  165 

The  color  scales  already  discussed  illustrate  what  is 
meant  by  a  harmonious  plan  throughout  the  pageant,  and 
suggest,  at  least,  ways  to  attain  it.  Color  contrasts  aim 
primarily  at  emphasis,  at  striking  an  effect  which  arrests 
the  eye  and  compels  attention.  Contrast  is  therefore  a 
dramatic  way  of  using  color,  a  challenge  flung  at  the 
audience.  There  may  be  present  in  any  given  color  scale 
the  most  violent  contrasts,  but  if  the  scale  has  been  rightly 
proportioned,  the  colors  in  between  serve  as  intermediaries, 
leading  the  eye  imperceptibly  to  the  contrasting  hue  with 
no  emotional  shock.  It  is  the  danger  of  getting  the  emo- 
tional shocks  in  the  wrong  place,  or  at  the  wrong  moment, 
that  makes  the  difficulty  of  moving  brightly  clad  groups 
about  the  stage.  It  is  therefore  true  that  a  low-toned 
harmony  is  easier  to  obtain  and  to  keep  in  movement  than 
a  stronger  and  richer  one.  Errors  caused  by  contrasting 
or  discordant  colors  coming  together  unexpectedly  are  less 
obvious  in  the  former.  A  color  harmony  has  for  its  first 
object  the  production  of  a  feeling  of  beauty;  color  con- 
trast aims  at  arousing  or  stimulating  the  audience.  This 
is  the  principle  then  that  guides  the  pageant  designer  in 
planning  for  contrasts.  He  should  take  care  to  know  why 
he  uses  a  color  contrast,  as  otherwise  he  may  seriously 
interfere  with  the  mood  of  his  scene. 

Finally,  the  pageant  director  finds  his  color  plan  some- 
what modified  and  controlled  by  the  general  tones  of  the 
historical  costumes.  In  deahng  with  interludes,  as  has  been 
said,  he  is  on  safe  ground  in  carrying  out  his  plan  in  any 
way  he  wishes,  but  to  fit  the  historical  episodes  into  a 
comprehensive  scheme  is  not  so  easy.     On  the  other  hand, 


166       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

it  is  true  that  many  historical  periods  have  a  definite  key 
color  represented  in  their  costumes,  and  by  choosing  the 
right  tint  or  shade  and  consulting  his  color  scales  much 
may  be  done.  For  example,  Indians  suggest  browns,  warm 
in  tone,  and  their  barbaric  love  of  finery  permits  color 
contrasts  of  vivid  hues.  Upon  referring  back  to  his  scale 
containing  browns,  he  discovers  on  one  side  a  deep  wine- 
red;  here  is  the  color  for  head-gear  and  accessories.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  scale  is  light  oHve,  and  next  to  that  a 
gray-blue-green.  These  colors,  therefore,  may  be  used,  as 
well  as  the  wine-red,  in  blankets  and  garments  as  key 
colors.  The  whole  can  be  hghtened  by  barbaric  splashes 
of  bright  hues,  if  the  thing  is  done  with  judgment.  It  may 
be  objected  that  Indians  do  not  necessarily  wear  these 
colors  —  or  wear  a  greater  variety.  In  reply  aU  that  can 
be  said  is  that  a  pageant  is  a  picture,  not  a  photograph; 
and  that  the  colors  selected  do  no  actual  violence  to  what 
is  probable.  The  glaring  crudity  of  some  of  the  attempts 
to  reproduce  Indian  costumes  is  certainly  not  a  standard 
to  imitate. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  men's  costumes  suggest 
silver  and  brown  —  the  latter  darker  than  the  browns  of 
the  Indians.  The  silver  is  of  course  the  armor  which  was 
worn  over  the  leather  jerkins.  The  women  of  this  period 
are  dressed  in  grays  and  neutral  colors,  with  an  occasional 
sharp  contrast  in  the  color  of  apron  or  petticoat.  It  is  the 
dull  homespuns  of  early  pioneer  days  that  give  the  key, 
together  with  the  silver  and  brown.  Again  the  color  scale 
is  consulted.  In  light  blue-gray  is  found  the  silver,  a 
normal  part  of  the  scale;  dark  gray-blue-green  and  violet- 


COLOR  167 

gray  will  serve  for  the  women's  dresses.  White  caps  and 
neck  ruches  give  one  note  of  contrast;  various  shades  and 
tints  of  wine  or  red  and  olive-green  in  the  aprons  help  to 
hghten  the  sombre  skirts,  and,  last  of  all,  occasional  aprons 
of  pure  blue  and  violet  will  complete  the  desired  contrasts. 
Should  a  colonial  governor  appear,  a  central  note  of  con- 
trast might  be  struck  by  dressing  him  in  black  and  gold, 
with  a  cloak  hned  with  a  gold-orange.  If  these  colors  are 
repeated  in  the  interlude  scales,  the  historic  episode  will 
use  darker  shades  and  lower  tones. 

The  eighteenth  century  offers  perhaps  more  difficulties. 
In  the  first  place,  as  these  costumes  are  costly,  it  is  gen- 
erally necessary  to  rent  them  from  a  theatrical  costumier. 
It  is  not  always  possible  to  obtain  them  in  groups  of  colors, 
or  rather  in  desirable  colors.  However,  if  the  director 
finds  that  he  can  be  supphed  with  a  reasonable  assortment, 
he  can  continue  to  foUow  his  definite  plan.  The  period 
is  now  one  of  individuahty  in  dressing,  further  comphcated 
by  soldiers  in  briUiant  uniforms  whose  colors  may  in  no 
way  be  altered.  He  will  need  to  make  his  color  scale  a 
gorgeous  one,  not  only  to  allow  scope  for  the  necessary 
variety  of  the  period,  but  as  a  contrast  to  the  more  sombre 
clothes  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  follow.  His  scale  may 
be  some  variation  of  that  on  page  i5o,  with  a  choice  of 
key  colors  which  harmonize  with  the  whole  pageant  plan. 
Contrasts  will  be  found  in  a  hberal  use  of  white  and  in 
the  scarlet  of  the  English  uniforms  and  the  blue  and  buff 
of  the  continentals.  He  has  so  much  contrast  here  and 
contrast  so  difficult  to  manage  that  his  other  colors  should 
conform  rigorously  to  a  harmonious  scale;    otherwise  his 


168       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

stage  will  represent  hopeless  confusion.  He  will  need 
plenty  of  white  to  isolate  his  uniforms  from  the  key  colors, 
as  well  as  neutrals  to  soften  the  contrasts. 

What  has  been  said  about  color  so  far  relates  mainly  to 
its  handling  in  masses  on  the  pageant  stage.  Before  enter- 
ing into  its  treatment  in  detail,  it  is  necessary  to  remind 
the  producer  that  his  color  plan  is  really  a  part  of  the 
plot.  It  is  expressive  of  the  author's  ideas,  not  only  in 
the  historical  episodes  but  in  the  interiudes  as  well.  His 
plan  must  take  all  of  these  complex  factors  into  account. 
Several  references  have  been  made  to  color  as  an  interpreter 
of  the  mood  of  a  scene.  It  can  serve  equally  to  help  carry 
the  author's  meaning.  Thus  the  color  scales  of  the  in- 
teriudes depend  upon  what  it  is  that  the  interiudes  are 
intended  to  express.  Particularly  when  the  interiudes 
include  group  dancing  is  the  interpretive  function  of  color 
important.  A  harmonious  picture  is  of  no  value  unless  it 
correctly  represents  the  author's  meaning  throughout.  The 
point  is  emphasized  because  it  is  too  often  the  case  that 
the  color  plan  is  not  inspired  by  any  other  thought  than 
that  of  securing  beauty  of  effect  —  of  dazzling  the  audience 
perhaps  by  its  brilliancy.  Under  these  circumstances 
there  is  a  danger  of  making  the  color  plan  at  variance  with 
the  spirit  of  the  scenes. 

The  general  color  plan  is  a  more  or  less  abstract  thing. 
How  it  is  necessary  to  modify  it  to  conform  to  the  neces- 
sities of  historical  costuming  has  already  been  mentioned. 
It  is  equally  true  that  the  interludes  introduce  factors 
which  must  be  considered.  Suppose,  by  way  of  illustra- 
tion, that  in  a  certain  interlude  there  is  a  group  of  water 


COLOR  169 

spirits.  The  fact  that  they  are  water  spirits  limits  their 
treatment  to  greens  and  blues  —  of  special  shades  and 
tints  —  which  depend  again  on  whether  they  are  spirits  of 
the  sea  or  of  inland  waters.  Therefore  their  place  in  the 
color  scale  has  to  be  determined,  so  that  they  can  harmo- 
nize with  the  other  groups.  Again,  mountain  spirits  are 
more  or  less  limited  to  purples,  deep  blues,  and  a  few  grays; 
wood  nymphs,  to  greens  and  browns,  with  sometimes 
splashes  of  the  autumn  colorings.  In  the  same  way, 
flower  spirits,  because  of  the  brightness  of  their  hues,  need 
to  be  managed  with  discretion  if  they  are  not  to  disturb 
the  general  color  plan. 

An  important  matter  in  the  detailed  study  of  color  is 
the  use  of  two  or  more  shades  or  tints  in  the  same  cos- 
tumes. There  ought  not  to  be  a  sharp  dividing  line  be- 
tween the  two,  unless  there  is  a  reason  for  a  contrast; 
rather  let  the  two  gradually  melt  one  into  the  other. 
When  it  comes  to  a  question  of  using  two  different  hues 
in  the  same  costume,  either  as  a  parti-colored  garment,  or 
as  a  color  worn  over  another  color,  the  design  needs  especial 
care.  The  mixtures  are  based  upon  the  general  color  scale 
—  that  is,  the  hues  are  selected  from  it.  One  color  must 
dominate,  or  rather  the  proportion  should  not  be  half  and 
half,  but  nearer  one  third  and  two  thirds.  The  dominating 
hue  is  the  key  color  of  the  scene.  The  blends  may  be 
either  of  complementaries  chosen  from  the  painter's  scale 
or  of  colors  lying  next  each  other  in  that  scale  of  contrasts; 
as,  violet  and  a  shghtly  yellowish  green,  or  red  and  red- 
orange,  or  yellow  and  blue,  to  choose  three  arbitrary 
examples.     Last  of  aU,  costumes  in  which  the  cold  colors 


170       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

predominate  will  need  less  of  the  warm  complementary 
and  contrasting  color  than  when  the  case  is  reversed.  The 
tendency  of  the  warm  colors  to  use  up  the  whole  effect 
must  never  be  lost  sight  of  in  placing  them  with  cold  colors. 
The  only  way  to  make  certain  of  the  result  is  to  return 
again  and  again  to  the  model  stage. 

The  indoor  stage  presents  an  entirely  different  set  of 
factors  to  the  color  designer.  It  is  no  longer  a  question  of 
keeping  his  effects  in  harmony  with  his  background,  for 
he  can  control  the  latter  absolutely.  The  possible  range 
is,  therefore,  greater.  On  the  other  hand,  his  stage  is 
smaller  —  certainly  as  regards  depth,  and  probably  as 
regards  width  also.  His  audience  wiU  be  closer  to  his 
groups  and  a  good  deal  of  the  softening  due  to  a  far  per- 
spective will  be  lost.  Last  of  all,  the  problem  of  hghting 
becomes  an  intimate  part  of  the  color  problem.  His  stage 
model  has  now  to  be  studied  by  artificial  light,  approxi- 
mating as  closely  as  possible  the  quality  of  fight  actuaUy 
to  be  used.  The  model  must  also  be  fighted  from  the  same 
angle,  for  shadows  are  important.  AU  these  things  require 
more  experience  than  is  needed  for  producing  in  the  open 
air. 

Since  the  pageant  stage,  even  when  indoors,  ought  not 
to  imitate  that  of  a  theatre,  formal  scenery  is  abandoned. 
In  its  place  are  hangings,  or  at  most  a  conventionafized 
suggestion  of  architecture  with  a  large  proportion  of  drap- 
eries. The  purpose  of  the  draperies  is  to  give  a  back- 
ground which  shaU  always  be  in  harmony  with  the  color 
masses  of  the  groups.  Light  tints  of  neutral  colors  —  blue- 
grays,   gray-greens,   and  gray-browns  —  are  best.     If  the 


COLOR  171 

hangings  are  too  dark  they  absorb  too  much  hght.  Red 
and  violet  hangings  eat  up  the  colors  placed  in  front  of 
them;  orange  fatigues  the  eye,  when  it  does  nothing  worse. 
Cream-white  is  best  for  the  architectural  details,  as  it  most 
readily  takes  the  tones  of  artificial  hght.  If  many  of  the 
scenes  are  supposed  to  pass  outdoors,  the  hght-toned 
neutral  greens  are  most  satisfactory.  When  the  choice 
rests  upon  other  considerations,  grays  and  blues  will  be 
found  good.  Sometimes  there  is  a  patriotic  desire  to  hang 
a  large  flag  in  the  centre  of  the  background.  Unfor- 
tunately, though  the  motive  may  be  a  worthy  one,  its 
result  is  to  destroy  any  harmony  in  the  color  plan.  Red, 
white,  and  blue  are  too  violent  and  arresting  notes  to  blend 
with  anything  else.  Keep  the  flags  about  the  building, 
but  off"  the  stage,  until  the  episodes  in  which  they  belong 
appear. 

The  color  scales  used  outdoors  apply  to  indoor  work, 
although  the  color  plan  will  be  based  on  tints  or  shades, 
rather  than  on  full  colors.  So  much  depends  on  the  quahty 
of  the  artificial  hght  available  and  its  intensity  that  no 
precise  instructions  can  be  given.  The  plan  is  drawn, 
however,  exactly  as  already  described  for  outdoors  and 
then  compared  with  its  effect  when  hghted.  The  neutral 
colors,  it  is  well  to  remember,  have  a  tendency  to  look 
ahke,  while  the  darker  shades  all  merge  toward  black. 
Gradations  are  not  as  fine,  but  contrasts  are  softened. 

During  the  interludes,  various  efi*ects  may  be  gained  by 
the  use  of  colored  lights,  which  are  usually  electric  arcs 
filterefl  through  colored  gelatines.  These  eff'ects  will  be 
crude  if  not  properly  handled.     Another  danger  is  that 


172       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

colored  light  will  kill  certain  of  the  costumes.  The  follow- 
ing tables/  therefore,  of  the  result  of  putting  colored 
lights  on  colored  materials  will  be  found  useful. 

Red  light:  on  black,  produces  a  purpKsh-black;  on  red, 
deepens  the  color;  on  orange,  the  latter  becomes  red- 
orange;  on  yeUow,  orange;  on  green,  different  effects 
according  to  the  tone  of  the  green  —  if  the  green  is  a  dark 
shade,  it  produces  a  red-black,  and  if  a  hght  tint  a  reddish 
gray;   on  blue,  violet;   and  on  violet,  deep  purple. 

Orange  light:  on  black  yields  a  deep  brown;  on  red, 
scarlet;  on  yellow,  yeUow-orange;  on  green,  if  it  is  a  dark 
shade,  a  rusty  green,  if  it  is  a  hght  tint,  a  yellow-green;  on 
blue,  an  orange-gray,  if  the  blue  is  hght,  a  duU  gray,  if  it  is 
a  deep  blue;  on  indigo,  a  dark  brown;  on  violet,  a  red-brown. 

Yellow  light:  on  black  gives  a  yellow-ohve;  on  red, 
orange;  on  orange,  yellow-orange;  on  green,  yellow-green; 
on  blue,  yellow-green  if  the  blue  is  hght,  green-slate  if  the 
blue  is  deep;  on  indigo,  orange-yellow;  and  on  violet, 
yellow-brown. 

Green  light:  on  black  makes  a  green-brown;  on  red, 
brown;  on  orange,  a  faint  yellow  with  a  green  tinge;  on 
yellow,  brilhant  yellow-green;  on  blue,  green  intense  or  the 
reverse,  according  to  the  tint  or  shade  of  the  blue;  on 
indigo,  dull  green;   on  violet,  bluish  green-brown. 

Blue  light:  on  black,  gives  a  blue-black;  on  red,  violet; 
on  orange,  brown  with  a  pale  tint  of  violet;  on  yellow, 
green;  on  green,  blue-green;  on  indigo,  deep  blue-indigo; 
and  on  violet,  dark  blue-violet. 

*  From  The  Principles  of  Harmony  and  Contrast  of  Colors,  by  M.  Z. 
Chevreul,  translated  by  Charles  Martel;   3d  ed.,  1869. 


COLOR  173 

Violet  light:  on  black,  yields  black  with  a  faint  violet 
tinge;  on  red,  red- violet-purple;  on  orange,  light  red;  on 
yellow,  brown  with  a  pale  tint  of  red;  on  green,  hght 
purple;  on  blue,  clear  blue-violet;  and  on  indigo,  deep 
indigo-violet. 

It  is  clear  from  these  tables  that  starthng  transforma- 
tions, not  to  say  discords,  may  follow  the  careless  use  of 
colored  hghts  on  a  group  dressed  in  varied  hues.  Further- 
more, these  tables  are  accurate  only  within  certain  limits. 
Different  materials  take  hght  in  different  ways,  and  the  final 
result  cannot  be  predicted  in  any  given  case  without 
experiment.  Alternating  current  arc  lamps  have  a  large 
proportion  of  violet  rays  in  the  beam  of  hght,  whereas  the 
hght  from  direct  current  lamps  is  reasonably  white.  If 
incandescent  electric  lamps  are  used  in  conjunction  with 
the  colored  "spots"  and  "floods,"  still  other  conditions 
enter  which  modify  the  conclusions  arrived  at  in  the  tables. 
Color  fighting,  therefore,  should  be  used  with  discretion 
and  only  for  definite  purposes  which  experiment  has  shown 
to  be  satisfactory.  It  must  form  an  integral  part  of  the 
whole  color  plan  and  not  at  any  time  be  manipulated  so  as 
to  come  into  colfision  with  this. 

On  an  indoor  stage  color  grouping  may  be  used  in  various 
ways  to  convey  symbohc  or  statuesque  effects,  as  weU  as 
its  more  usual  function  in  costuming.  An  outdoor  pageant 
of  the  historical  type  aims  at  an  illusion  of  reahsm  in  the 
episodes.  On  an  artificially  hghted  stage,  however,  it 
may  be  advisable  in  the  case  of  certain  mediaeval  masques 
or  Greek  festivals  to  abandon  realism  and  rely  instead  on 
a  purely  decorative  treatment.     Such  a  method  lends  itself 


174       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

to  tableaux,  scenes  in  pantomime,  and  to  the  interlude. 
For  example,  in  a  series  of  mediaeval  tableaux  the  decora- 
tive rather  than  reahstic  use  of  color  gives  the  best  result. 
The  designer,  say,  wishes  to  make  his  scenes  correspond 
in  effect  to  old  tapestries.  He  will  adopt  a  soft-toned  color 
scale,  paying  particular  attention  to  quiet  shades  of  old 
blues,  grays,  reds,  greens,  and  violets.  The  background 
will  suggest  the  texture  of  tapestry,  of  a  color  harmonizing 
with  the  figures  in  the  foreground.  In  this  case  the 
background  is  the  key  color,  and  the  groups,  an  ascending 
or  descending  scale  from  it.^  Or  again,  if  it  is  a  Greek 
festival,  a  series  of  friezes  done  to  resemble  bas-rehef 
may  be  worked  out  by  means  of  color  and  hghting.  The 
background  in  this  case  is  a  dead-white  rather  bluish  in 
tone.  The  groups  are  all  massed  as  close  to  it  as  possible 
in  straight  lines,  the  figures  against  the  back  in  white  and 
gray,  those  in  front  in  white,  with  or  without  touches  of 
primary  hues  in  the  patterns  on  the  garments.  ^  Greek 
vase  paintings  suggest  further  color  plans  for  bas-relief 
tableaux,  as  do  Pompeian  wall-paintings.  Thus  for  Greek 
scenes  the  background  may  be  either  white,  black,  terra- 
cotta, or  scarlet,  according  to  whether  the  effect  desired 
is  that  of  statuary,  pottery,  or  Roman  frescoes.  The  ob- 
ject of  decorative  coloring  is  to  simplify  the  effect  of 
modelling,  to  use  flat  tints  and  shades  —  in  short,  to  obtain 
an  impression  of  a  wall  hung  with  tapestry,  or  of  a  sculp- 
tured frieze  in  low-rehef,  or  even  that  of  a  fresco  itseff. 

^  The  scale  ascends,  as  the  term  is  used  here,  when  it  goes  toward  red, 
descends  when  it  goes  toward  violet. 

*  The  Greeks  often  painted  their  white  marble  statuary  in  brilliant  colors. 


COLOR  175 

A  simple  scale  containing  only  a  few  colors  is  essential 
to  secure  the  appearance  of  the  figures  as  being  in  a  single 
plane,  or  only  shghtly  detached  from  it. 

Nor  are  the  color  suggestions  of  the  preceding  paragraph 
limited  to  tableaux.  The  use  of  statuesque  groups  is 
permissible  in  conjunction  with  a  slow  dignified  solo  dance, 
or  where  only  two  or  three  figures  carry  on  the  action. 
Obviously,  however,  these  decorative  groupings  will  not 
serve  for  scenes  of  quick  movement. 

The  use  of  color  in  the  indoor  pageant  has  the  same 
function  as  in  the  outdoor,  namely,  to  help  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  author's  idea  and  to  give  tone  and  atmos- 
phere to  the  individual  scenes.  The  problems  are  alike  in 
essence  whether  the  stage  is  roofed  or  open  to  the  sky,  but 
under  the  former  conditions  the  details  are  more  complex, 
because  of  the  Ughting  problem  and  the  nearness  of  the 
audience.  Therefore  the  final  words  of  this  chapter  are 
the  same  as  those  with  which  it  began:  let  the  designer 
go  back  to  experiments  with  his  model  stage  again  and  yet 
again  until  he  is  satisfied  that  his  final  plan  is  the  best  of 
which  he  is  capable. 


Chapter  VIII 
COSTUME  AND  SETTING 

COSTUME  design  puts  into  practical  effect  the  color 
scheme  of  the  pageant  or  dramatic  representation, 
while  if  there  is  historical  material  to  deal  with,  it  is 
chiefly  through  the  design  and  selection  of  the  costumes 
that  an  illusion  of  other  times  or  other  manners  is  ob- 
tained.^ Costume  is  the  most  important  of  the  many 
details  surrounding  the  production  of  a  spectacle,  and  one, 
unfortunately,  which  requires  something  more  than  ama- 
teur skill  for  its  adequate  treatment.  Too  often  the  whole 
question  is  disposed  of  by  securing  the  help  of  a  theatrical 
costumier,  a  plan  which  is  artistically  unsatisfactory.  The 
stock  costumes  are  seldom  historically  accurate,  nor  obtain- 
able in  the  desired  color  harmonies.  To  hire  costumes 
is  almost  as  costly  as  to  make  them.  On  the  other  hand, 
home-made  costumes  of  faulty  design  are  even  less  satis- 
factory than  the  products  of  the  theatrical  costumier. 

In  choosing  historical  costumes  the  designer  will  seek 
for  sources  of  inspiration  in  the  work  of  artists  contem- 

*  That  modem  theories  of  color  values  m  dramatic  costuming  do  not 
really  differ  in  essence  from  those  long  held  in  the  theatre  may  be  seen  by 
reference  to  Pougin's  Dictionnaire  du  Theatre  under  Costume:  "The  colors 
must  blend  successfully  one  with  tmother  in  order  that  sdl  unpleasant  shocks 
to  the  eye  may  be  avoided.  .  .  .  The  costumes  of  the  supernumeraries 
should  not  nullify  those  of  the  important  characters.  All  the  tints  and 
shades  should  harmonize  with  the  setting,  —  and  the  colors  be  so  chosen 
that  artificial  light  will  neither  cause  discord  nor  deaden  the  effect." 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  177 

porary  with  the  period  in  question.  The  encyclopaedias 
of  costume  and  the  books  on  this  subject  are  too  often 
disappointing.  The  plates  are  not  always  faithful  de- 
lineations of  actual  costumes,  but  are  more  frequently 
adaptations  by  artists  whose  designs  are  influenced  by 
recent  fashions.  Fortunately  it  is  possible  at  the  present 
day  to  procure  inexpensive  reproductions  as  well  as  actual 
photographs  of  pictures,  statuary,  and  the  articles  in 
famous  museums,  so  that  a  designer  may  go  to  the  foun- 
tain head  for  his  ideas.  Thus  he  is  practically  independent 
of  the  text-books.  If  he  wishes  to  leam,  for  example,  about 
Greek  costumes,  he  may  turn  directly  to  photographs  of 
statues  and  vase  paintings.  Likewise,  such  collections  as 
the  Perry  pictures  have  placed  at  the  designer's  disposal 
the  masterpieces  of  the  artists  of  all  ages. 

It  is  of  course  true  that  original  research  takes  more 
time  and  is  less  convenient  than  referring  to  a  text-book. 
Further,  research  demands  a  general  knowledge  of  his- 
toric costume  in  order  that  the  selections  may  be  made 
with  judgment.  Nevertheless  the  results  are  worth  the 
extra  labor.  Only  the  more  recent  books  on  costume  have 
been  at  all  discriminating  in  the  choice  of  sources  for  their 
contents,  hence  the  designer  can  never  be  certain  in  any 
particular  case  that  the  compiler  has  exercised  due  care. 
For  this  reason  the  costume  bibliography  to  this  chapter 
has  been  strictly  limited  to  important  and  readily  access- 
ible books,  but  even  these  are  to  be  checked,  when  used,  by 
references  to  primary  sources. 

The  costume  director  will  need  the  assistance  of  one  or 
more  persons  with  a  knowledge  of  drawing  to  make  the 


178       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

numerous  sketches  required.  In  a  large  production  this 
is  too  burdensome  a  task  for  one  artist.  In  every  com- 
munity there  are  usually  several  people  who  are  quite 
competent  to  carry  out  the  producer's  ideas  once  they 
understand  what  is  wanted.  Their  possible  lack  of  experi- 
ence in  costume  design  must  be  supplemented  by  the 
producer's  resestfches.  Experts  in  the  field  of  costume 
design  command  large  salaries  which  are  beyond  the 
resources  of  any  but  elaborate  pageant  organizations. 
Nevertheless,  artistic  and  appropriate  costuming  is  pos- 
sible without  a  disproportionate  outlay,  if  the  producer  is 
properly  equipped  to  guide  his  assistants.  His  sugges- 
tions include  the  practical  and  the  artistic.  Under  the 
practical  comes  the  question  of  materials,  since  these  are 
limited  in  range  by  the  money  available,  while  imder  the 
artistic  is  included  the  selection  and  creation  of  the  design. 
The  total  sum  allotted  for  costuming  must  be  divided 
among  the  various  episodes,  the  proportion  being  based 
upon  the  number  of  performers  and  the  elaborateness 
of  the  individual  scenes.  A  general  estimate  is  made  for 
each  scene.  Obviously,  certain  costumes  for  the  important 
characters  will  cost  more  than  others,  just  as  some  scenes 
will  be  more  expensive  than  others.  The  estimate  is  based, 
therefore,  on  the  number  and  nature  of  the  costumes  re- 
quired, the  cost  of  the  raw  materials,  and  on  the  charges 
for  making  them  up.  Materials  are  the  heaviest  item  of 
expense.  They  should,  therefore,  be  purchased  in  the 
whole  piece.  If  this  is  done,  it  is  possible  to  obtain  whole- 
sale rates,  or  at  least  a  reduction  from  the  average 
price  per  yard.    Again,  it  is  a  mistake  to  assume  that  the 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  179 

effectiveness  of  costumes  depends  upon  rich  silks  and  rare 
velvets.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  cheaper  materials  are 
better.  For  ordinary  heavy  cloths, — ^  velvets,  silks,  and 
the  like,  —  substitute  canton  flannel  and  cambrics.  The 
cheapest  grade  of  cheese-cloth  is  soft  and  hangs  well. 
Ordinary  net  can  be  used  in  place  of  lace,  and  so  on. 
The  canton  flannels  come  in  a  wide  range  of  colors  and 
are  the  standard  materials  for  most  of  the  costumes.  In 
the  open  air  canton  flannel  appears  to  have  splendid  body 
and  opaqueness,  while  indoors  it  takes  artificial  hght  weU. 
For  mediaeval  costumes,  in  particular,  it  cannot  be  im- 
proved upon.  Costumes  of  stiff  materials  may  be  made 
from  burlap.  This  can  be  stencilled  or  painted  to  imitate 
brocades,  or  embroidery,  and  it  will  keep  its  shape.  An- 
other rather  expensive  material  for  brocades  is  "tapestra," 
which  is  obtained  from  upholsterers.  It  costs  several 
times  as  much  as  burlap,  but  is  comparatively  inexpensive 
where  a  rich  effect  is  essential.  Chintzes  are  useful  for 
eighteenth-century  dresses. 

Cotton  crepe  is  another  good  material  for  soft  and 
clinging  gowns.  It  is  preferable  to  cheese-cloth  in  smaller 
productions,  where  the  performers  are  close  to  the  spec- 
tators, as  it  has  a  richer  appearance.  It  comes  in  thin 
grades,  in  a  wide  range  of  colors,  and  is  inexpensive.  For 
Indian  costumes  either  a  wool  or  cotton  "ratteen"  will 
closely  resemble  buckskin  at  a  little  distance.  Beadwork 
and  other  barbaric  trimming  may  be  painted  on  by  oil- 
colors. 

The  imitation  of  armor  usually  gives  amateurs  a  lot  of 
trouble,  but  it  can  be  made  quite  simply.     Plain  burlap 


180       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

is  the  foundation.  When  this  has  been  cut  out  into  the 
required  shape,  it  is  painted  with  aluminum  powder  mixed 
with  thin  hot  glue.  Chain  mail  is  made  of  coarse  knitted 
or  crocheted  goods,  hkewise  painted  with  aluminum  pow- 
der. The  crowns  of  old  derby  hats  with  the  brims  cut 
away  make  excellent  and  convincing  helmets,  after  they 
have  been  silvered  with  aluminum  paint.^  Helmets  of 
unusual  shapes  are  made  of  cardboard. 

There  are  innumerable  materials  of  aU  kinds  which  are 
capable  of  making  artistic  and  inexpensive  costimies; 
only  a  few  of  the  easiest  obtainable  have  been  mentioned. 
A  httle  patience  in  prowling  about  in  well-stocked  shops 
will  reveal  many  others.  If  it  is  possible  to  limit  pur- 
chases to  a  few  standard  materials,  the  total  cost  will  be 
much  less.  Scattered  buying  of  a  number  of  different 
materials  is  not  good  economy. 

To  turn  now  to  the  question  of  design,  the  best  method 
to  follow  is  that  described  by  modern  costumiers  as  draw- 
ing the  silhouette.  Broadly  speaking,  the  silhouette  is  the 
outhne  of  the  costume,  its  shadow.  It  is  seen  without 
detail,  but  only  in  hne  and  mass.  Correctness  of  outline 
is  the  first  essential.  By  the  use  of  the  silhouette  accurate 
proportion  is  obtained,  and  the  whole  costume  is  designed 
as  a  imit  in  one  broad  sweep,  instead  of  being  built  up 
from  a  host  of  more  or  less  important  details.  Thus,  if 
a  figure  wearing  a  cape  is  wanted,  do  not  draw  first  the 
cape  and  then  fit  the  rest  of  the  costume  design  to  it. 

'  Chain  armor  and  metal  scales  may  also  be  made  by  painting  direct 
on  cloth.  Brass  rings  and  washers  sewed  to  a  cloth  foundation  give  a  realis- 
tic effect  of  chain  mail  at  close  range,  but  a  costume  made  in  this  way  is 
too  heavy  to  wear  with  comfort. 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  181 

Strike  at  once  a  complete  silhouette  of  a  figure  in  a  cape, 
leaving  the  analysis  of  the  detail  for  later  consideration. 

The  silhouette  is  particularly  useful  in  designing  his- 
torical costumes,  for  it  represents  most  accurately  the 
characteristics  of  the  costume  of  each  period.  It  is  the 
very  spirit  of  the  design.  Costume  outlines  not  only  vary 
from  century  to  century,  but  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. Only  by  adhering  absolutely  to  the  silhouette  of  a 
period  can  the  spirit  of  a  costume  be  reproduced  with 
accuracy.  For  example,  if  in  designing  a  lady's  dress  of 
the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  an  artist  searching 
for  details  were  to  add  a  head-dress  from  the  first  half  of 
the  century,  he  would  spoil  his  outline,  whereas  if  he  had 
conceived  the  costume  from  the  beginning  as  a  period  sil- 
houette, its  general  form  would  have  been  so  well  fixed 
in  his  mind  that  he  would  not  permit  it  to  be  altered. 
And  yet  errors  of  this  kind  are  easily  made  when  an  artist 
turns  over  the  pages  of  an  old  book  and  picks  a  rulT  here 
and  a  head-dress  there,  and  combines  them  all  into  one  design. 

Each  costume,  excluding  duphcates,  should  first  be 
sketched  in  silhouette,  and  labelled  with  the  scene  and  the 
name  of  the  character.  These  outhnes  are  of  great  value 
to  the  producer  in  arranging  his  grouping.  They  give  him 
a  clear  idea  of  the  lines  and  masses  of  each  scene.  Cer- 
tain costumes  are  effective  if  massed  closely  together; 
others  should  be  spaced  so  that  the  individual  silhouettes 
are  not  merged  in  the  outline  of  the  group.  The  burghers 
of  New  Amsterdam,  with  their  broad,  padded  breeches, 
ought  not  to  be  placed  so  the  outlines  of  their  costumes 
are  lost,  while  the  severe  lines  and  folds  of  monks'  gowns 


182       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

may  give  the  best  result  if  the  group  is  treated  as  a  unit. 
It  is  only  after  all  the  silhouettes  have  been  determined 
upon  that  the  designer  takes  up  the  question  of  the  details 
of  his  costimaes. 

Here  at  the  outset  the  designer  will  find  himself  con- 
fronted by  the  necessity  of  deciding  how  far  accuracy  of 
detail  is  essential  in  historical  costumes.  There  are  two 
theories  on  this  subject:  one  urges  minute  correctness  down 
to  the  uttermost  button,  and  the  other  points  out  that 
details  tend  to  vanish  according  to  the  number  of  per- 
formers used  and  their  distance  from  the  audience.  The 
latter  theory  holds  that  accuracy  of  outline,  plus  a  color 
scheme  which  does  no  actual  historical  violence  to  the 
design,  are  sufficient.  From  an  educational  standpoint, 
if  costumes  are  to  be  seen  near  to,  the  more  accuracy  the 
better.  On  the  other  hand,  Uteral  accuracy  in  large  groups 
representing  a  number  of  types  in  a  by-gone  age  is  prob- 
eibly  impossible.  The  data  is  lacking.  At  best  many  of 
the  costumes  will  represent  only  an  approximation,  with 
perhaps,  if  the  period  is  not  too  remote,  some  quite 
accurate  and  still  others  quite  wrong,  if  we  only  knew  it. 
In  other  words,  literal  accuracy  of  detail  is  something  of  a 
will-o'-the-wisp,  growing  fainter  and  fainter  with  each 
century  that  we  pursue  it  backwards.  Still  another  point 
is  worth  mentioning.  To  insist  upon  a  lot  of  detail  makes 
the  cost  of  the  costumes  mount  rapidly.  If  in  a  certain 
period  gentlemen  wore  richly  carved  belt  buckles  or  in- 
laid sword-hilts,  these  things  cannot  easily  be  imitated. 
The  point  is,  will  the  audience  see  the  carving  or  the 
inlay  work.^     It  is  satisfying  to  the  producer  to  know  it 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  183 

is  there,  but  hardly  worth  the  trouble  and  expense  if  only 
he  and  the  actor  are  aware  of  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
every  person  in  the  audience  can  see  the  outUne  of  the 
costume  and  appreciate  its  importance.  If  the  silhouette 
is  wrong,  the  whole  costume  is  wrong,  while  a  plain  buckle 
in  place  of  a  carved  one  will  not  spoil  a  correct  silhouette. 
There  are  some  details,  such  as  hats,  head-dresses,  shoes, 
and  weapons  which  are  an  integral  portion  of  the  out- 
line, and  these  must  not  be  neglected.  The  others  may 
be  reduced  to  their  simplest  terms. 

However  detailed  a  designer  wishes  to  make  his  cos- 
tumes later,  he  will  work  best  in  all  cases  from  the  pre- 
liminary silhouette.  The  next  step,  after  the  outline,  is 
to  work  up  the  water-color  design  as  a  practical  sketch 
to  be  handed  over  to  the  maker  of  the  costumes.  Here  the 
working  directions  must  be  precise,  and  be  accompanied 
by  measurements  and  samples  of  all  the  materials  to  be 
used.  If  the  costume  is  compHcated,  a  rough  sketch  of  the 
back,  or  of  any  separate  part  likely  to  be  troublesome  in 
the  making,  should  be  included.  The  designer  does  his 
thinking  in  outhne,  but  the  maker  requires  specific  in- 
structions for  everything,  as  well  as  a  certain  amount  of 
actual  supervision. 

In  small  productions  the  color  scheme  can  best  be  carried 
out  by  dyeing  the  cheese-cloth  or  unbleached  muslin  cos- 
tumes. This  enables  the  producer  to  purchase  single 
pieces  of  goods,  instead  of  putting  in  an  order  for  a  few 
yards  of  several  different  colors.  Likewise  if  he  does  his 
own  dyeing,  he  can  control  absolutely  his  color  combina- 
tions.   On  a  large  scale  the  plan  is  not  so  practical,  owing 


184       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

to  the  extra  time,  labor,  and  expense  involved.  The 
ordinary  commercial  dyes  which  are  sold  in  packages  at 
any  druggist's  may  be  used.  These  dyes  yield  crude 
colors  which  seldom  approximate  what  is  wanted.  The 
difficulty  is  overcome  by  mixing  two  or  more  colors  in 
varying  proportions  until  the  right  shade  or  tint  is  secured. 
A  good  deal  of  experiment  is  necessary,  for  which  a  num- 
ber of  small  strips  of  the  material  are  prepared  and  the 
dyes  tested  by  dipping  these  strips  one  at  a  time  in  each 
mixture.  The  mixtures  must  be  kept  clean  and  not 
allowed  to  get  muddy.  At  first  many  mixtures  will  have 
to  be  thrown  away  and  the  experiment  begun  afresh,  but 
after  a  httle  experience  this  does  not  happen  so  often. 

The  materials  must  be  soaked  in  clean  water  and  wrung 
out  before  dyeing  them.  If  they  have  been  sized  with 
starch  or  a  mineral  glaze,  it  is  necessary  to  boil  the  sizing 
out.  It  is  not  essential  to  boil  the  costumes  in  the  dyes 
unless  permanent  colors  are  desired.  For  all  ordinary 
purposes  dipping  the  costumes  in  a  cold  solution  and  then 
allowing  them  to  dry  will  answer  quite  well.  If  weather- 
worn effects  are  wanted,  do  not  wring  the  materials  after 
dipping  them.  As  the  colors  are  not  the  same  dry  as  wet, 
this  must  be  taken  into  account  in  testing,  the  mixtures. 
Furthermore,  if  the  costumes  are  dried  in  a  strong  sun- 
light, they  will  fade,  usually  unevenly.  Colors  may  be 
made  to  run  one  into  the  other  by  dipping  one  half  the 
costume  in  one  hue  and  the  other  half  in  another.  A 
dyed  costmne  may  be  splashed  with  another  dye  while 
stiU  wet,  in  short  the  various  combinations  possible  are 
limited  only  by  the  producer's  ingenuity. 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  185 

Practically  all  properties,  except  furniture,  can  be 
made,  if  the  producer  has  at  hand  a  committee  willing 
to  work.  A  carpenter  shop,  borrowed  or  rented,  is 
the  principal  part  of  the  equipment  needed.  Here 
spears,  swords,  bows  and  arrows,  shields,  and  guns  can 
be  made  by  anyone  with  a  Kttle  knowledge  of  how  to 
use  took.  The  dimensions  are  calculated  —  care  being 
taken  to  get  proportions  correct  and  not  to  make  things 
too  heavy  —  and  rough  sketches  of  each  object  are  pre- 
pared. The  weapons  can  be  painted  with  gold,  silver,  or 
aluminum  paint.  Such  swords  as  must  be  drawn  from 
scabbards  are  hired,  the  others  are  simply  wooden  shams. 
For  battle  scenes,  of  course,  actual  weapons  are  needed  — 
and  here  the  theatrical  costumier  is  the  only  resource. 
Again,  it  is  not  necessary  to  make  all  the  properties.  A 
surprising  number  of  them  can  usually  be  found  in  any 
community,  if  the  committee  are  enterprising  in  hunting 
things  up.  For  example,  such  things  as  furniture,  spinning 
wheels,  musical  instnunents,  old  implements,  and  so  on, 
are  generally  forthcoming  uf)on  request. 

Flags,  banners,  and  heraldic  devices  are  simple  to  make. 
They  must  be  correct  and  not  be  founded  on  guesswork. 
Elaborate  devices  can  be  stencilled  or  cut  out  of  material 
and  sewed  into  position.  For  mediaeval  designs,  a  manual 
of  heraldry  is  consulted  on  all  doubtful  points. 

Metal  work,  such  as  buckles  and  similar  objects,  can  be 
cut  out  of  thin  sheets  of  brass  or  copper.  A  pair  of  tin- 
smith's shears  and  two  or  three  files  are  the  principal  tools. 
Rough  edges  are  smoothed  away  or  sharp  corners  rounded 
by  the  files.    If  very  thin  metal  is  used,  it  may  be  tacked 


186       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

to  a  wooden  backing  to  increase  its  solidity.  More  elabo- 
rate metal  work  may  be  embossed  with  pmiched  designs, 
or  even  enamelled,  but  here  skilled  workers  are  necessary.^ 
Wooden  shields  are  sometimes  covered  with  imitation 
leather  having  patterns  outlined  on  the  surface  by  brass- 
headed  upholsterer's  tacks.  If  the  producer  commands 
the  assistance  of  a  manual-training  department  in  some 
school,  there  is  no  limit  to  the  variety  of  properties  which 
can  be  designed  and  made. 

Although  it  is  not  generally  advisable  for  amateurs  to 
attempt  to  paint  elaborate  scenery,  simple  and  artistic 
sets  for  indoor  productions  may  be  made  from  screens. 
Any  carpenter  can  make  these  cheaply.  They  should  be 
made  with  reversible  hinges,  so  the  panels  may  be  swung 
in  any  direction.  These  scenes  should  be  built  as  lightly 
and  cheaply  as  possible.  For  covering,  an  unbleached 
canvas  is  neatly  and  smoothly  tacked  onto  each  side, 
front  and  back.  The  canvas  must  be  sized  to  take  paint. 
The  sizing  is  a  thin,  hot  solution  of  glue,  which  shrinks  the 
canvas  somewhat.  The  screens  are  next  painted  any 
desired  color  with  kalsomine  paint.  As  each  screen  has 
a  front  and  a  back,  changes  of  scenery  can  be  effected  by 
simply  turning  them  around.  It  is  necessary  only  to  paint 
the  back  of  the  screens  a  different  color  from  the  front. 
Again,  the  separate  panels  may  be  of  varying  colors  to 
carry  out  any  scheme  the  producer  wishes.  These  screens 
will  make  any  shape  of  setting  desired,  which  in  turn  can 
be  altered  at  a  moment's  notice.    When  used  in  conjunc- 

^  In  many  English  pageants  metal  work  and  enamelling  was  done  by 
local  Arts  and  Crafts  societies. 


f-    z. 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  187 

tion  with  draperies  an  unlimited  range  of  architectural 
and  interior  scenes  is  possible.  It  is  also  an  easy  matter 
to  stencil  designs  on  the  screens,  although,  as  a  rule,  flat 
simple  tints  and  shades  are  to  be  preferred.  For  all  prac- 
tical purposes  these  screens  are  preferable  to  even  elabo- 
rate scenery  and  give  most  artistic  results  at  a  low  outlay. 

For  the  sake  of  completeness,  the  following  description 
of  Mr.  Craig's  patented  screens  is  added. ^ 

The  scene  is  made  up  usually  of  four,  six,  eight,  ten  or 
twelve  screens.  Each  part  or  leaf  of  a  screen  is  ahke  in 
every  particular  except  breadth,  and  these  parts  together 
form  a  screen,  composed  of  two,  four,  six,  eight  or  ten 
leaves.  These  leaves  fold  either  way  and  are  monochrome 
in  tint.  The  height  of  all  these  screens  is  alike.  They  are 
self-supporting  and  are  made  either  of  a  wooden  frame 
covered  with  canvas,  or  of  solid  wood. 

Curved  enclosures  may  be  made  with  screens  of  narrow 
dimensions;  for  large  rectangular  spaces  broader-leaved 
screens  are  used;  and  for  varied  and  broken  forms  all 
sizes  are  employed.  Sometimes  a  flat  roof  is  used  with 
these  screens;  at  other  times  the  space  above  the  top  hne 
is  shown.  They  may  be  lighted  by  using  ordinary  theatre 
battens.  Certain  additions  may  be  made  to  the  scene  set 
with  screens,  such  as  a  flight  of  steps,  a  window,  a  bridge, 
a  balcony,  and  of  course  the  necessary  furniture,  "though 
great  care  and  reserve  must  be  exercised  in  making  these 
additions  to  avoid  the  ridiculous." 

*  It  18  well  tx)  note  that  Mr.  Craig  has  patented  the  application  of  his 
system  of  screens  to  scenic  decoration.  This  description  is  summarized  from 
The  Mask,  Vol.  VII,  No.  a.  May,   iqiT). 


188       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

There  are  two  practical  advantages  in  the  use  of  the 
screen  setting:  one  is  the  ease  with  which  the  scene  may 
be  changed  or  rearranged;  the  other,  the  ease  with  which 
the  setting  may  be  studied  in  the  producer's  model  of  his 
stage.  As  Mr.  Craig  says:  "To  begin  with,  the  model 
with  which  he  works  is  always  ready  to  his  hand.  He 
keeps  it  in  his  study  and  is  thus  able  continually  to  test 
ideas  which  come  into  his  head.  .  .  .  He  has  not  to  wait 
for  the  scene  painter  to  bring  him  a  model  which,  if  he 
does  not  like,  he  has  to  have  changed  and  rechanged;  but 
he  has  at  his  disposal  a  model  scene  which  he  can  be 
always  changing  and  arranging,  and  from  which  he  can 
derive  ideas  for  the  movement  of  his  figures." 

The  screens  will  stand  by  themselves  without  being 
fastened  to  the  stage  or  to  ropes,  rollers,  or  beams  in  the 
"flies."  Variety  is  secured  not  only  through  different 
arrangements  of  the  screens,  but  by  making  them  of 
different  sizes.  They  may  be  thirty  feet  high  or  only  eight 
feet;  they  may  have  any  number  of  folds,  and  each  fold 
may  be  one  foot  wide  or  six  feet.  Three  men  in  three 
minutes  could  move  or  remove  a  whole  scene  and,  folded 
flat,  each  screen  would  take  up  but  httle  space.  A  com- 
plete change  of  scene  can  be  obtained  merely  by  rearrang- 
ing a  few  screens.  The  whole  mood  or  tone  of  a  given 
scene  can  be  altered  by  varying  the  fighting.  Mr.  Craig's 
own  desire  appears  to  be  to  dispense  as  far  as  possible 
with  any  coloring  on  the  screens  themselves,  partly  be- 
cause each  screen  can  thus  take  on  a  much  wider  range 
of  characters  than  if  it  were  colored.  Most  of  the  color- 
ing is  obtained  by  means  of  colored  fights;   and  thus  there 


COSTUME  AND  SETTING  189 

is  no  danger  that  a  scene  painted  for  one  light  would  be 
robbed  of  its  effect  by  being  seen  later  under  another  light. 
One  fact  is  worth  adding:  the  screens  require  a  flat,  not 
a  sloping,  stage,  if  they  are  to  stand,  as  they  should, 
without  support. 

In  conclusion  it  may  be  said  once  more  that  costumes 
and  properties  are  satisfactory  only  when  they  have  been 
designed  in  harmony  with  the  whole  production.  Origi- 
nality and  the  avoidance  of  stereotyped  conventions  are 
an  essential  in  these  details  as  in  all  the  others.  Stylisa- 
tion  —  the  carrying  out  of  the  author's  purpose  by  the 
production  —  demands  a  studied  plan  involving  all  the 
elements  which  compose  the  finished  drama.  This  at- 
mosphere is  attained  by  neglecting  nothing,  or  accepting 
nothing  as  "good  enough"  simply  because  it  happens  to 
be  the  easier  way. 


Chapter  IX 
THE  DANCE 

"Sometimes  all  wound  close  in  a  ring,  to  which  as  fast  they  spun 
As  any  wheel  a  turner  makes,  being  tried  how  it  will  run. 
While  he  is  set;  and  out  again,  as  full  of  speed  they  wound. 
Not  one  left  fast,  or  breaking  hands.     A  multitude  stood  round. 
Delighted  with  their  nimble  sport" 

—The  Iliad,  Bk.  XVIII. 

WTH  the  revival  of  interest  in  the  dance  ia  America, 
several  conflicting  points  of  view  toward  this  art 
have  arisen.  On  the  one  hand  are  the  advocates  of 
formalized  dancing,  the  dance  of  the  theatre  and  the 
traditional  ballet.  In  the  eyes  of  these  people  dancing 
is  a  speciahzed  art  which  can  be  carried  on  only  by  highly 
skilled  and  trained  performers.  It  is  a  system  reduced  to 
rigid  rules  and  carefully  planned  steps,  the  whole  being 
linked  to  the  traditions  and  artificiahties  of  the  Italian 
theatre  of  two  or  three  centuries  ago.  Another  group  are 
concerned  with  the  dance  as  a  form  of  physical  training, 
— an  aim  which  finds  its  best  expression  in  the  schools 
of  rhythmic  gymnastics  *  and  its  worst  when  the  dance 
is  reduced  to  a  perfunctory  substitute  for  bodily  exer- 
cises.^ Still  others  are  interested  in  the  dance  as  a  means 
to   recreation.    When   so   used    the   dance   has   returned 

*  Cf.  the  system  of  Jacques  Dalcroze. 

*  Such  as  gymnasium  dancing,  having  no  other  object  in  view  than  the 
physical  benefit  to  be  derived  from  the  exercise. 


THE  DANCE  191 


closely  to  its  early  principles,  but  recreative  dancing  to- 
day is  almost  entirely  taken  up  with  reviving  old  forms 
instead  of  with  creating  new.  Finally,  there  are  the  so- 
called  innovators,  Uke  Isadora  Duncan  and  the  revolu- 
tionists of  the  Imperial  Russian  ballet,  who  beheve  that 
the  dance  not  only  preserves  the  forms  and  traditions  of 
an  art  that  was  once  flourishing,  but  that  the  dance  itself 
is  to-day  a  vital  creative  art  which  can  be  made  to  grow 
and  develop  new  forms  and  even  a  new  technique. 

Each  of  these  attitudes  toward  the  dance  serves  a  use- 
ful purpose  in  its  own  particular  field.  There  is  no  desire 
in  this  chapter  to  compare  one  to  the  disadvantage  of 
the  other,  but  simply  to  discuss  the  dance  in  its  relation 
to  outdoor  and  indoor  drama,  at  the  same  time  keeping 
in  mind  the  needs  of  the  amateur.  It  is  obvious  that 
the  formal  ballet,  which  is  the  product  of  a  professional 
indoor  stage  ^  and  is  besides  an  art  requiring  years  of 
training  and  preparation  on  the  part  of  the  performers, 
cannot  serve  conmiunity  drama  and  pageantry.  Even 
if  trained  dancers  are  at  hand,  ballet  loses  its  atmosphere 
and  effectiveness  in  the  open  air.  It  was  not  developed 
to  fill  large  spaces  and  far  perspectives.  Again,  those  who 
have  studied  dancing  as  a  part  of  their  physical  education 
are  good  material  to  work  with,  but  the  dancing  they  have 
been  taught  is  only  remotely  related  to  dramatic  purposes. 
They  have  yet  to  study  the  dance  as  an  art.  Nearest  to 
dramatic  dancing  is  the  recreation  ideal. 

'  The  formal  ballet  is  always  recoKnize<l  by  diincinj?  masters  as  belong- 
ing U)  the  theatre.  A  typical  defmition  of  btillel,  by  Conij>an  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  calls  it  "action  tliealrnle  qui  ,<te  rrpresenle  par  la  dance, 
guidee  par  la  miuique."     {Diclionnaire  de  danse,   Paris,   1788.) 


192       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Dancing  as  a  recreation  has  made  considerable  progress 
of  recent  years,  chiefly  under  the  inspiration  of  Cecil 
Sharp.  He  was  the  founder  of  the  well-known  school  of 
folk-dancing  at  Stratford-on-Avon,  and  has  planned  a 
similar  school  for  this  country.  His  aim  is  to  revive  and 
keep  ahve  the  beautiful  old  folk  and  country  dances  and 
to  persuade  people  to  dance  them  for  the  sheer  joy  of 
dancing.  He  has  no  ulterior  motive,  such  as  physical 
training  or  educational  purpose,  but  wishes  the  dances 
danced  for  their  own  sakes.  In  the  end,  if  interest  in 
the  older  dances  grew,  there  might  come  a  renaissance  of 
the  dance  itself,  not  as  a  theatrical  art,  but  as  a  normal 
element  in  popular  recreation.  Thus  he  has  striven 
particularly  to  reawaken  the  interest  of  men  and  boys 
in  the  morris  and  sword  dances  and  the  competitions 
which  used  to  surround  them.  In  Elizabethan  England 
men  trained  all  winter  long  for  the  morris  dance  competi- 
tions held  at  Whitsuntide.  Such  dancing  contests  might 
well  parallel  at  least  the  modem  interest  in  athletics. 

Pubhc  and  private  schools  have  also  taken  up  recreative 
dancing  as  an  outlet  and  training  for  the  play  spirit, 
especially  in  large  cities,  where  playgrounds  are  few  and 
restricted  in  size.  The  children  are  taught  folk-dances 
and  singing  games,  and  the  success  of  this  innovation 
is  attested  by  the  folk-dance  festival  in  Central  Park 
given  each  year  by  the  pubhc  school  athletic  league  for 
girls.  Some  ten  thousand  performers  take  part  in  these 
festivals.^ 

»  For  a  discussion  of  the  value  of  the  dance  as  a  means  of  social  recrea- 
tion, see  Richard  Henry  Exlwards'  Popular  Amusements,  New  York,  iqiS. 


Photo  In-  Ira  II ill,  \.  }' 


The  Dlsrt  s  'rnKc)\vi;H 
lijiriiJini 


THE  DANCE  193 


The  growth  of  recreative  dancing  will  increasingly  pro- 
vide in  the  various  communities  trained  groups  who  are 
skilled  in  traditional  dances.  To  this  extent  these  groups 
will  be  invaluable  to  the  producer  of  pageants  who  is 
so  fortunate  as  to  find  such  organizations  already  in 
existence  in  the  town  in  which  he  is  to  work.  Recrea- 
tive dancing,  however,  is  concerned  with  only  one  aspect, 
the  carrying  on  of  tradition;  there  remains  to  consider 
the  dance  as  a  creative  art. 

Studied  in  this  way  the  purpose  of  the  dance  is  to 
achieve  creative  self-expression  through  the  interpretation 
of  ideas  by  means  of  rhythmic  movement.  To  distinguish 
this  theory  of  the  dance  from  any  other  apphcations  of 
this  art,  the  term  "  natural  dancing  "  is  used.  Natural 
dancing  differs  from  the  classical  ballet  in  that  the  latter 
is  a  professional  theatrical  art,  intended  only  for  the 
indoor  stage,  and  with  entire  emphasis  upon  a  conven- 
tionalized technique.  Again,  natural  dancing  achieves 
physical  training  only  as  a  by-product  and  not  as  an  end 
in  itself.  It  requires,  of  course,  for  its  highest  develop- 
ment, a  perfectly  formed  body,  but  this  body  is  used  as 
a  medium  of  expression  for  the  mind.  The  distinction 
between  natural  and  recreative  dancing  has  already  been 
made   sufficiently    clear. 

To  understand  the  principles  of  natural  dancing  it  is 
necessary  to  glance  briefly  at  the  origins  of  the  dance 
itself.  Its  close  relation  to  the  beginnings  of  drama  is 
well  known.     In  the  earlier  Greek  festivals  from  whence 

This  contains  a   good   bibliography   of   recent   iKJoks   and   articles  on    this 
subject. 


194       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

drama  was  derived,  the  dance  was  pantomimic,  that  is, 
the  imitation  of  an  action.  This  is  true  of  the  dance  of 
all  primitive  peoples.^  The  next  step  in  its  development 
might  be  described  as  the  use  of  the  dcince  to  interpret 
emotion,  —  particularly  the  emotions  of  joy  and  pleasure 
as  expressed  in  the  worship  of  the  god.  The  dance  has 
here  taken  a  step  away  from  strictly  mimetic  forms 
toward  the  representation  of  abstract  ideas  in  terms  of 
emotions.  At  first  each  dancer  chose  his  own  way  to 
convey  his  feeUngs,  —  in  other  words,  created  his  own 
technique.  Gradually,  as  the  festival  and  drama  evolved 
and  tradition  began  to  accumulate  around  them,  all  the 
elements  composing  them  were  more  and  more  formahzed. 
In  this  way  the  dance,  as  associated  with  the  drama, 
developed  a  technique  of  its  own  composed  of  certain 
movements  and  steps  followed  by  all  the  performers  in 
concert.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  dancing  as  indi- 
vidual self-expression  was  characteristic  of  popular  festivals 
long  after  drama  had  regularized  the  art  for  its  own  pur- 
poses. From  the  dancing  at  popular  festivals  were  finally 
evolved  folk-dances  with  their  own  traditions  and  steps. 
The  more  or  less  ceremonial  character  of  the  dance  in 
all  ages  has  had  the  inevitable  tendency  to  reduce  it  to 
set  forms.  Most  of  the  folk-dances  which  have  survived 
to-day  give  clear  evidence  of  the  ceremonial  origin,  even, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  sword  dances,  with  their  associa- 
tion with  sacrifices. 
The  personal  element  in  the  dance  was  continually  sub- 

*  For  a  valuable  account  of  the  origins  of  primitive  dances  and  dramas, 
see  Loomis  Havemeyer's  The  Drama  of  Savage  Peoples. 


THE  DANCE  195 


ordinated  to  the  group,  and  harmony  in  the  group  was 
dependent  upon  all  adhering  to  a  certain  order  and  con- 
vention in  their  movements.  The  individual  kept  his  or 
her  prominence  only  by  a  special  skill  in  steps  which  were 
similar  to  those  used  by  the  group,  as,  for  example,  is 
seen  in  the  premihe  danseuse  of  the  modem  ballet.  That 
the  dance  could  be  made  an  individual  means  of  self- 
expression  through  new  forms  seems  to  have  been  forgot- 
ten for  a  great  many  centuries.  Even  such  famous  solo 
dancers  as  Fanny  Elsler  and  Mme.  Taghoni  depended 
upon  superior  skill,  charm  of  personality,  and  fresh  com- 
binations of  formal  steps,  not  upon  creating  a  new  tech- 
nique. 

Now  if  the  dance  is  to  be  recreated  as  a  living  art,  if 
it  is  not  simply  to  exist  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  on 
tradition,  it  cannot  be  bound  to  the  rules  of  a  traditional 
technique.  This  does  not  mean,  as  some  have  supposed, 
that  natural  dancing  has  no  technique  at  all.  Far  from 
it.  Technique  is  the  foundation  of  all  art.  Where  natural 
dancing  differs  from  former  conceptions  of  the  dance,  is 
that  its  technique,  like  that  of  the  great  painters,  is  a 
living,  growing  thing,  passing  continually  from  one  form 
to  another.  Just  as  drama,  in  all  ages,  shook  off  the 
rules  of  academic  criticism  and  ranged  through  an  in- 
finite variety  of  types,  each  of  which  is  in  the  end  recog- 
nizable as  drama,  so  natural  dancing  is  entitled  to  claim 
the  same  freedom.  As  Miss  Isadora  Duncan  has  said, 
"The  school  of  the  ballet  of  to-day,  vainly  striving  against 
the  natural  laws  of  cavitation  or  the  natural  will  of  the 
individual,   and   working   in   discord   with   its   form   and 


196       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

movement,  with  the  form  and  movement  of  natm*e,  pro- 
duces a  sterile  [art]  which  gives  no  birth  to  futm-e  move- 
ments, but  dies  as  it  is  made."  ^ 

Natural  dancing  opens  the  door  of  self-expression  to 
all  those  for  whom  ideas  have  meaning,  and  for  whom 
rhythm,  grace,  and  movement  can  be  made  a  means  of 
this  self-expression.  It  is  not  limited  to  speciahsts  who 
require  years  of  training,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
allows  the  great  artist  a  hfe-time  in  his  or  her  chosen 
field.  It  can  be  acquired,  as  music  can  be  acquired,  by 
many  who  will  not  be  great  artists,  yet  who  will  be  accept- 
able performers.  It  demands,  of  course,  enthusiasm  and 
a  reasonable  measure  of  skill  in  responding  to  rhythm 
and  graceful  movement,  but  not  years  of  drudgery  spent 
in  learning  difficult  artificial  poses  and  steps.  Natural 
dancing  is  not  a  substitute  for  the  ballet,  or  for  other 
types  of  dancing.  The  ballet  should  always  maintain  its 
position  as  a  theatrical  art,  a  thing  of  beauty  when  in- 
terpreted by  skilled  performers.^  Natural  dancing  off'ers 
a  parallel  within  the  reach  of  a  wide  number  of  people 
who  have  no  wish  or  intention  of  making  professional 
dancers  of  themselves,  but  who  are  seeking  for  an  art 
which  will  fulfil  their  needs.     Thus  natural  dancing  is 

^  In  an  essay  entitled  The  Drama,  accompanying  her  programs. 

*  It  is  necessary,  however,  to  remember  that  definitions  of  the  ballet 
are  stated  in  general  terms  by  the  dancing  masters,  so  that  from  these 
definitions  themselves  there  appears  Uttle  distinction  between  the  theory 
of  the  ballet  and  that  of  natural  dancing.  Thus  Perugini,  in  The  Art  of  the 
Ballet,  p.  24,  defines  the  ballet  as  "a  series  of  solo  and  concerted  dances 
with  mimetic  actions,  accompanied  by  music  and  scem'c  accessories,  telUng 
a  story."  The  form  of  the  technique  in  which  the  ballet  is  expressed  is 
not  referred   to. 


THE  DANCE  197 


an  amateur  art  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  that  is,  an 
art  which  may  be  followed  as  a  recreation  and  an  inspira- 
tion by  many  to  whom  speciahzation  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. As  a  consequence,  natural  dancing,  when  taught 
with  feeling  and  judgment,  is  preeminently  the  art  of 
the  dance  best  suited  for  community  drama  and  pa- 
geantry. It  is  in  this  aspect  that  the  subject  will  be 
treated  in  this  chapter. 

Fundamentally  the  dance,  while  it  is  also  an  art  in 
itself,  when  used  in  connection  with  drama  and  pageantry 
belongs  to  one  of  the  underlying  principles  of  staging, 
namely,  movement.  Hence  the  dance  is  never  conceived 
as  a  separate  or  added  part  of  the  production,  but  is  an 
organic  element  in  the  whole  production.  It  is  closely 
related  either  to  the  idea  or  to  the  plot  or  to  both.  The 
production  is  not  halted  to  allow  a  soloist  or  a  group  to 
dance,  but  the  dance  occurs  because  it  is  needed  at  that 
point.  Its  need  is  governed  by  the  fact  that  the  dance 
is  emotional,  like  music,  and  its  interpretive  value  con- 
sists in  its  p>ower  to  convey  emotions  to  the  minds  of  the 
audience.  These  emotions  are  transferred  through  the 
beauty  of  their  appeal  as  expressed  in  the  dance.  Beauty 
alone  is  not  the  object  of  the  dance,  but  its  purpose  is 
sought  in  the  ideas  which  it  renders  in  beautiful  forms. 

The  producer's  first  object  is  to  impress  upon  his  per- 
formers the  feeUng  for  dramatic  movement  of  which  the 
dance  is  one  specific  exam[)le.  They  nuist  understand 
the  value  of  movement  as  a  primary  factor  in  dramatic 
art  before  they  can  acquire  any  appreciation  of  how  the 
individual   may  contribute  his  or  Iier  sliare  to   the   total 


198       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

result.  Every  dramatic  spectacle  has  a  rhythm  of  its 
own  which  corresponds  to  the  mood  or  tone  in  which  the 
whole  is  conceived.  All  the  great  mass  movements,  such 
as  the  dances  and  shiftings  of  the  groups,  and  even  such 
details  as  the  tempo  in  which  various  scenes  are  played, 
harmonize  with  this  rhythm.  No  movements,  even  those 
of  a  solo  dance,  can  be  chosen  without  regard  to  the  basic 
rhythm.  This  does  not  imply,  as  might  be  imagined, 
that  the  rhythm  of  a  production  means  that  the  per- 
formance is  set  at  an  even  pace  throughout,  —  such  a 
misconception  would  end  in  monotony.  The  rhythm  now 
accelerates,  now  retards,  now  swells  toward  a  climax, 
or  falls  away,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  it  goes  steadily 
forward,  and  its  variations  are  aU  parts  of  one  movement. 

With  this  principle  in  mind,  the  dance  might  be  defined 
as  that  portion  of  the  spectacle  in  which  for  a  particular 
reason  the  emphasis  is  shifted  to  pure  movement.  This 
is  not  to  say  that  color  and  sound  (music)  do  not  play 
their  parts,  but  they  are  subordinate  to  the  dance  itself. 
For  the  moment  the  burden  of  the  performance  is  on 
motion  and  hence  the  motion  must  have  purpose,  other- 
wise it  is  simply  an  interruption.  The  term  "dance  in- 
teriude"  is  in  one  sense  unfortunate,  for  it  seems  to  imply 
a  pause,  instead  of  meaning,  as  it  really  does,  a  change 
in  the  method  of  telHng  the  dramatic  story. 

The  dance,  as  a  function  of  drama,  falls  into  three 
general  classifications:  the  plot  dance,  the  illustrative 
dance,  and  the  dance  interlude.  These  three  divisions  will 
be  considered  in  the  order  named. 

The  plot  dance  is  a  dance  essential  to  the  dramatic 


THE  DANCE  199 


action  of  the  story.  It  is  a  necessary  part  of  the  scene 
or  episode,  and  could  not  be  omitted  without  destroying 
the  continuity  of  the  incidents.  For  example,  the  second 
scene  of  the  authors'  pageant  drama  The  Magic  of  the 
Hills  ended  with  the  attempted  capture  of  the  Indian 
princess  by  the  two  evil  brothers  of  her  lover.  At  the 
moment  they  were  about  to  carry  her  off,  the  Fog  Wraiths 
descended  from  the  hill-tops  and  rescued  her  by  hiding 
her  from  the  brothers'  sight.  The  Fog  Wraiths  were  a 
group  of  dancers  whose  movements  were  symbohc  of  the 
slow  and  billowy  oncoming  of  mist.  They  gradually 
surrounded  the  princess  and  she  disappeared,  while  the 
brothers  were  left  bewildered.  This  dance  was  a  dramatic 
element  of  the  plot,  a  part  of  the  action.  In  the  dance 
dramas  of  the  Russian  ballet,  the  majority  of  the  dances 
are  plot  dances,  as  is  also  true  of  Reinhardt's  production 
of  Sumurun.  Le  Dieu  Bleu  has  a  striking  plot  dance. 
The  scene  is  by  a  lotus  pool  in  India.  A  maiden  whose 
lover  has  been  carried  off  by  the  priests  is  lying  forlorn 
by  the  pool.  Horrible  monsters  appear  from  a  cave  and 
threaten  her.  Then  the  lotus  flower  opens  and  the  Blue 
God  steps  forth.  In  a  long  solo  dance  he  subdues  and 
drives  away  the  monsters  one  by  one.^ 

The  illustrative  dance  may  be  used  either  to  depict  the 
manners  and  customs  of  a  particular  period  or  nationaHty, 
or  as  a  symbohc  dance  to  enhance  the  poetic  value  of  a 
scene.  If  the  producer  had  a  scene  representing  May 
Day  revels  in  Ehzabethan  England,  he  would  include  a 

'  For  descriptions  and  plots  of  the  Russian  dance  dranoaa,  see  particularly 
Thamdr  and  Pelrouchka. 


200       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

morris  or  a  May-pole  dance,  or  any  one  of  the  other  folk- 
dances  appropriate  to  the  occasion.  In  like  manner  the 
atmospheric  illusion  of  a  colonial  wedding  would  be 
vivified  by  the  introduction  of  a  minuet.  The  illustrative 
dance  should  not  seem  to  the  audience  to  be  dragged  in 
without  reason.  The  scene  must  be  so  devised  that  the 
dance  appears  a  natural  part  of  it,  as  spontaneous  a  hap- 
pening as  the  other  events.  Therefore  a  long  program  of 
several  illustrative  dances  following  one  £uiother  in  the 
same  scene  is  to  be  avoided.  It  is  not  advisable,  in 
portraying  May  Day  revels,  for  instance,  to  show  a  great 
many  folk-dances. 

The  symbohc  illustrative  dance  is  an  original  interpre- 
tive dance  which  aims  to  bring  out  the  poetic  meaning 
of  a  scene.  It  is  not  a  folk-dance  or  in  any  way  illustra- 
tive of  manners  or  customs.  To  take  an  instance,  imagine 
a  scene  in  which  primitive  people  are  shown  kindling  fire 
by  rubbing  sticks  together.  The  Spirit  of  Fire  might 
suddenly  appear  to  them  —  personified  in  the  figure  of  a 
solo  dancer.  This  dance  would  be  illustrative  of  primi- 
tive people's  fear  and  awe  of  the  nature  forces  and  of 
their  tendency  to  personify  their  conceptions.  Such  a 
dance  need  not  be  limited  to  scenes  of  primitive  life,  but 
is  equally  apphcable,  say,  to  an  episode  based  on  modem 
industrialism.  The  Spirit  of  Steam  or  of  Electricity  could 
be  represented  as  dominating  and  directing  the  modem 
works  of  man.  There  is,  of  course,  no  Hmit  to  the  im- 
aginative use  that  may  be  made  of  the  illustrative  dance. 

In  theory  symbohc  dancing  bears  the  same  relation  to 
the  art  of  the  dance  that  lyric  poetry  does  to  language. 


THE  DANCE  201 


It  is  a  way  of  expressing  ideas  through  an  ordered  pattern 
of  beauty,  and  hence  may  have  the  same  emotional  quaH- 
ties  that  lyrics  possess.  Thus  a  symboKc  dance  in  a  drama 
need  not  always  be  planned  so  cis  to  carry  the  action  for- 
ward; it  may  also  be  composed  to  be  descriptive  of  the 
mood  which  the  drama  has  at  that  point  reached.  In 
its  descriptive  form  the  symbohc  dance  may  simply 
parallel  an  action  which  has  already  had  more  concrete 
illustration  in  the  preceding  scene. 

The  dance  interlude  is  employed  in  those  portions  of 
the^dramatic  action  which  may ~b"e  given  an  allegorical 
leaning  or  other  independent  treatment.  It  may  include 
anything  from  a  single  personified  figure  to  a  complete 
dance  drama  parallel  to  the  main  story.  The  true  dance 
interlude  is  complementary  to  Jthe_princjpal  action,  —  a 
p>oetic  interpretation  of  it,  and  not,  as  has  been  said,  a 
mere  interruption  for  the  sake  of  variety  and  change. 
It  can  be  used  to  emphasize  certain  ideas  which  the  real- 
istic episodes  have  portrayed  literally.  Thus  in  a  national 
pageant  of  America  designed  to  show  the  welding  together 
of  many  nations  into  one,  the  dance  interludes  between 
the  episodes  could  each  be  made  a  characteristic  festival 
of  a  particular  country.  An  episode  dealing  with  the 
coming  of  the  French  settlers  may  be  followed  by  a  dance 
interlude  representing  the  merry-making  of  the  French 
peasants  at  the  close  of  the  vintage  season.  The  inter- 
lude would  be  constructed  to  follow  as  closely  as  may 
lie  actual  festival  customs,  the  peasants  dancing  in  pro- 
cession to  the  vineyards,  with  the  largest  bunch  of  grapes 
borne   aloft   in    triumph    by    the    leaders,    followed    l)y    a 


202       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

celebration  of  the  harvest  in  pantomimic  dance  and 
song.  The  sum  of  these  various  festivals  treated  as 
interiudes  would  interpret  for  the  audience  the  national 
spirit  and  customs  contributed  by  each  nation  to  the 
making    of   America. 

An  example  of  an  allegory  re-appearing  at  intervals 
throughout  a  periPormance  is  found  in  the  authors'  Pa- 
geant of  Elizabeth.  The  purpose  of  the  interiudes  was  to 
illustrate  the  growth  of  the  city.  A  figure,  veiled  at  first, 
was  shown,  inchoate  and  formless,  since  the  city  had  not 
yet  come  into  being.  About  this  figure  there  was  a  dance 
of  Indians  and  nature  spirits,  who  were  unconscious  of 
the  figure's  presence.  After  each  episode  which  covered 
the  lapse  of  years,  the  figure  stood  forth  more  and  more 
clearly,  imtil  in  the  final  interiude  it  became  the  personi- 
fication of  the  city  of  the  present  day,  no  longer  veiled. 
The  figure  was  now  suiroimded  by  allegorical  personages 
representing  art,  science,  education,  commerce,  and  civic 
unity.  The  interiudes  were  in  this  way  linked  together  in 
meaning,  and  this  meaning  was  at  the  same  time  parallel 
to  the  idea  expressed  by  the  whole  pageant. 

Finally,  the  dance  interiudes  may  together  form  a 
complete  dance  drama  embodying  a  plot  from  local 
legend  or  folk-lore.  This  is  the  most  difficult  type  to 
create,  because  of  the  sustained  pantomime  required  and 
the  skill  needed  to  construct  and  rehearse  an  intricate 
series  of  plot  dances.  Excellent  models  as  far  as  the 
structural  plans  go  are  to  be  found  in  the  stories  of  the 
Russian  mimo-dance  dramas  of  Leon  Bakst  and  his  fol- 
lowers.   It  must  be  remembered  that  these  Russian  dance 


THE  DANCE  203 


dramas  are  intended  for  the  theatre  and  for  professional 
performers,  but  the  story  outlines  are  good  examples  of 
the  kind  of  plot  that  can  be  successfully  treated  in  this 
way.  Many  of  these  are  melodramatic,  —  are  keyed  in 
a  tone  of  extravagant  violence,  —  and  yet  they  are  valu- 
able for  analytic  purposes  because  of  the  skill  with  which 
they  are  constructed.  No  better  way  to  study  the  teUing 
of  a  dramatic  story  through  emphasis  upon  movement 
can  be  found.  They  are  far  superior  for  this  purpose  to 
the  rather  insipid  stories  of  the  old-fashioned  ballets,  in 
which  the  plot  was  the  merest  thread  of  an  excuse  for 
the  dancing.  In  the  Russian  ballets  the  dancing  is  the 
plot  and  cannot  be  separated. 

For  American  producers  Indian  folk-lore  will  be  found 
full  of  possible  themes  and  subject-matter  for  dance 
dramas.  Our  own  folk-lore  is  as  rich  in  poetry  and  color, 
in  vigor  of  action  and  all  dramatic  quahties,  as  the  folk- 
tales of  Russia  or  other  European  countries.  The  field 
is  much  neglected.  We  seldom  see  our  Indians  in  any  but 
sentimental  stories  unlike  their  own.  Rut  if  Indians  are 
unsuitable  for  any  particular  case,  Celtic  myths,  English 
fairies,  Arthur  and  his  knights,  Robin  Hood,  and  a  host 
of  famihar  friends  remain.  Practically  all  of  the  world's 
great  stories  can  be  retold  once  more  in  dance  dramas, 
and  the  producer  has  before  him  an  mihinited  field  in 
which  to  work. 

Dance  dramas  should  be  planned  to  be  played  on  a 
large  scale,  utilizing  all  the  available  resources  of  space, 
mass,  and  color,  as  well  as  an  infinite  variety  of  move- 
ment.    Costuming  here  displays  the  widest  range  of  the 


204       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

designer's  fancy  and  imagination.  There  are  no  restric- 
tions, save  those  imposed  by  art,  upon  the  appeal  to  the 
spectator's  eye.  Emotional  values  are  given  full  sway. 
The  dance  drama  is  pure  drama,  unhampered  by  dialogue 
or  the  personalities  of  the  actors.  Its  words  are  found  in 
music,  while  its  strong  and  elemental  passions  are  inter- 
preted by  sheer  color  and  movement.  It  is  not  easy  to 
produce  with  amateurs,  save  after  long  and  laborious 
preparation,  but  it  is  possible,  if  time  allows.  Out  of 
dance  drama  will  be  evolved  one  of  the  dramatic  types 
of  the  future. 

To  turn  to  the  practical  problem  of  constructing  dances 
for  dramatic  spectacles,  we  find  that  the  principles  are 
closely  akin  to  the  building  of  any  dramatic  scene.  Here 
the  producer  is  working  with  movement  as  his  main  ele- 
ment, but  with  a  kind  of  movement  which  demands  an 
accompaniment  of  sound.  Hence  the  dance  and  music 
directors  have  to  work  hand  in  hand.  From  the  written 
text  of  the  spectacle,  as  prepared  by  the  author,  are 
derived  the  ideas  and  plot  conceptions  of  the  dances, 
although  these  are  usually  found  to  exist  only  in  vague 
and  general  terms.  The  problem  is  to  build  dances  which 
shall  correctly  interpret  the  spirit  of  the  author's  mean- 
ing. 

The  dance  director  decides  first  of  all  upon  his  general 
impression  of  the  dance,  —  its  mood,  climax,  rhythm, 
tempo,  the  contrast  required,  and  the  time  necessary  to 
perform  it.  This  he  lays  before  the  music  director  for 
his  advice  and  criticism.  The  number  of  measures  needed 
for  entrances  and  exits  is  a  practical  matter  not  to  be  over- 


THE  DANCE  205 


looked  in  making  the  preliminary  plans.  The  size  of  the 
stage,  the  number  of  performers,  and  the  position  of  the 
entrances  and  exits  are  all  taken  into  consideration.  In 
constructing  dances  allowances  must  be  made  for  the  view- 
points of  both  dance  director  and  musician;  either  must 
be  prepared  to  compromise  a  Httle  in  order  to  reach  a 
complete  understanding.  To  secure  the  best  results  the 
dance  and  the  music  must  form  a  perfect  blend;  therefore 
neither  director  can  assume  a  dictatorial  attitude  toward 
his  particular  field.  The  music  director  next  endeavors 
to  embody  in  a  composition  the  ideas  that  have  been 
agreed  upon.  Questions  of  phrasing  and  of  the  number 
of  measures  and  pauses  will  probably  need  reconsidera- 
tion when  the  rehearsal  of  the  dance  is  first  attempted. 
Hence  the  music  director  must  not  be  too  insistent  that 
his  composition  is  cast  in  its  final  form.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  dance  director  must  settle  as  early  as  possible 
upon  his  completed  dance  structure,  as,  once  the  music 
has  been  orchestrated,  important  changes  can  no  longer 
be  made. 

The  structure  of  a  dance  in  drama  rests  upon  four 
underlying  principles:  mood,  action,  rhythmic  progression, 
and  climax. 

Broadly  sp)eaking,  the  mood  of  a  dance  is  its  emotional 
atmosphere.  This  may  range  all  the  way  from  tragic  to 
comic.  It  may  be  vigorous,  gay,  and  h'vely,  or  gentle, 
dreamy,  and  elusive.  The  mood  is,  of  course,  determined 
by  the  tone  or  mood  of  the  scene  in  which  the  dance 
occurs.  It  hannoni/es  willi  this  tone  just  as  dfx^s  color 
and  dialogue.     Obviously   therefore  nio(xl  determines  the 


206        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

tempo  of  a  dance,  since  the  rate  of  movement  natm-ally 
corresponds  to  the  kind  of  emotion  to  be  expressed. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  often  dance  interludes  in  which 
the  mood  is  largely  a  matter  of  the  director's  own  inter- 
pretation, —  perhaps  he  has  been  left  with  only  the  most 
general  suggestion  from  the  author.  By  way  of  illus- 
tration, take  a  dance  interlude  which  the  stage  directions 
refer  to  simply  as  "the  Spirit  of  War."  The  mood  of 
such  a  dance  might  be  treated  in  several  ways,  accord- 
ing to  the  basic  idea  of  the  spectacle  as  a  whole.  Hence 
the  spirit  of  war  might  be  interpreted  as  a  brilhant  call 
to  battle,  with  the  steady  march  of  troops  suggested  by 
the  rhythmic  sway  of  groups;  or  it  might  emphasize 
conflict,  the  lust  of  blood,  and  the  sacrifice  of  human  hfe, 
together  with  the  sorrow  following  in  the  wake  of  battle. 
Looked  at  in  another  way,  the  sacrifice  of  human  life 
could  be  interpreted  as  a  glorious  and  inspiring  offering 
on  the  altar  of  the  country,  —  a  mood  almost  mystic 
and  rehgious  in  its  significance.  In  the  first  instance,  the 
mood  would  be  interpreted  by  a  strongly  marked  repeti- 
tive rhythm,  march,  and  processional  motifs;  in  the 
second  (conflict  followed  by  sorrow),  the  dance  would 
begin  turbulently,  then  graduaUy  tone  down  to  slow  move- 
ments, and  conclude  with  an  ending  as  solemn  as  possible, 
with  figures  striving  to  express  the  tragic  force  of  a  Greek 
chorus.  The  last  example  (sacrifice  on  the  country's 
altar)  would  be  treated  as  a  rhythmic  ceremonial  dance, 
typifying  the  laying  of  the  sacrifice  upon  .a  central  altar, 
about  which  the  figures  would  slowly  weave  movements  of 
geometrical  pattern.    Still  another  treatment  of  the  spirit 


THE  DANCE  207 


of  war  would  be  to  construct  the  dance  as  a  pantomimic 
representation  of  the  preparation  for  battle  followed  by  a 
mimetic  fight.  Such  were  the  war  dances  of  primitive 
people  and  the  Pyrrhic  dance  of  ancient  Greece.  The 
mood  here  is  joy  and  exaltation  —  an  incitement  to  deeds 
of  danger  and  heroism.  The  various  examples  are  cited 
merely  to  show  the  varying  moods  which  the  dance  may 
employ  in  interpreting  a  single  idea,  —  moods  which  range 
from  the  popular  idea  of  the  dance  as  an  expression  of 
joy  to  its  equally  important  function  as  a  dramatic 
accompaniment  of  story  and  of  festival  ceremonial. 

Action  in  the  dance  has  a  similar  connotation  to  the 
use  of  this  term  in  its  apphcation  to  dramatic  theory. 
Action  does  not  mean  the  bodily  movements  of  groups  or 
individuals,  but  it  is  used  to  describe  the  structure  of  the 
dance.  It  is  through  the  action  that  the  idea  or  plot  on 
which  the  dance  is  founded  is  interpreted.  Just  as  in 
spoken  drama,  the  action  is  not  necessarily  concerned 
with  crossings  of  the  stage  or,  in  short,  with  externals, 
but  is  the  expression  of  idea-development.  Hence  it  fre- 
quently happens  in  the  dsmce  that  the  most  dramatic 
moment,  the  instant  when  the  action  is  at  its  height, 
occurs  during  a  pause.  Action  comprises  the  progress  of 
the  dance  toward  the  climax  which  is  itself  the  cul- 
mination of  the  action.  It  is  not  therefore  a  series  of 
rapid  steps  and  of  belter  skelter  skippings  about  the 
stage,  but  the  logical  unfolding  of  the  purpose  for 
which  the  dance  was  created.  Owing  to  the  absence 
of  the  sp)oken  word,  however,  the  action  is  simple.  As 
in   drama   every   incident   does   not   necessarily    advance 


208       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

the  plot,  which  rather  progresses  in  a  series  of  wave- 
Hke  motions,  so  in  the  dance  action  need  not  be 
imphcit  in  every  movement.  During  the  onward  sweep 
of  the  action  toward  the  cUmax,  the  various  di- 
visions of  the  advance  may  be  Hnked  together  with 
descriptive  movements.  To  continue  the  comparison 
with  drama  structure,  the  descriptive  movements  cor- 
respond to  narrative  passages.  To  sum  up:  in  the  struc- 
ture of  a  dramatic  dance,  action  has  the  same  meaning  as 
this  term  connotes  in  the  short  story  and  in  act  structure. 
Rhythmic  progression  is  the  harmonious  flow  of  the 
action  of  the  dance  through  the  chmax  to  the  conclusion. 
The  mood  determines  the  tempo  and  hence  the  kind  of 
rhythm,  and  the  whole  is  governed  by  the  action  to  be 
expressed.  Rhythmic  progression,  in  the  practical  building 
of  the  dance,  is  the  division  and  the  progression  of  the 
action  worked  out  through  the  dramatic  laws  of  repetition, 
contrast,  pause  (suspense),  and  rise  and  fall  of  movement. 
These  principles  will  be  reserved  for  later  consideration. 
The  action  is  analyzed  for  mood  and  to  determine  the 
number  of  movements  necessary  to  complete  the  action. 
The  movements  are  nothing  less  than  the  story  elements,^ 
—  in  spoken  drama  they  would  be  called  the  plot  details. 
The  tempo  will  vary  and  correspond  to  the  elements  of 
which  the  dance  is  composed.  It  must  be  remembered, 
however,  that  these  movements  of  the  dance  are  body 
movements,  that  it  is  these  movements  which  interpret 
the  idea  or  plot.    Only  in  this  sense  is  the  parallel  with 

*  A  dance  which  is  the  unfolding  of  a  simple  idea  has,  of  course,  analo- 
gous movenaents  necessary  to  the  revelation  of  the  idea. 


THE  DANCE  209 


the  spoken  drama  exact.  The  chmax  is  the  point  of 
highest  interest,  the  moment  for  which  the  whole  dance 
exists.  What  has  gone '  before  has  been  preparation, 
what  follows  is  the  conclusion,  but  the  climax  itself  is 
the  focus  of  the  action.  It  may  be  further  defined  as  the 
point  in  the  dance  where  the  spectator  receives  the  final 
revelation  of  the  idea.  To  refer  once  more  to  The  Magic 
of  the  Hills  for  an  illustration,  in  the  second  act  the  hero 
was  attacked  by  the  storm  winds  and  was  all  but  over- 
come when  the  moon  maiden  intervened  to  rescue  him. 
The  climax  of  the  dance  was  at  the  point  of  the  storm's 
maximum  violence;  at  this  instant  the  moon  maiden 
broke  through  the  clouds.  The  chmax  thus  carried  with 
it  a  dramatic  pause.  Then  the  storm,  gathering  force, 
although  less  violent  than  before,  once  more  dimmed  the 
lustre  of  the  moon  maiden.  She,  however,  came  forth 
again;  and  this  time  the  storm  died  away  with  only  dis- 
tant mutter ings  and  one  final  gust  of  energy,  until  the 
moon  maiden  finally  conquered. 

The  climax,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  necessarily  the 
most  beautiful  moment  in  the  dance,  nor  does  it  always 
present  the  most  effective  picture.  It  is  the  culmination 
of  the  story  and  is  entirely  governed  by  the  lat tor's 
needs.  The  climaxes  of  a  great  many  dances  may  come 
at  the  exit,  in  which  case,  as  in  some  short  stories,  climax 
and  conclusion  occur  sinmltaneoush .  Again  tlie  climax, 
as  in  the  example  of  the  storm  wind  dance  cited  in  the 
preceding  paragraph,  may  be  followed  by  several  minor 
rises  of  the  action,  —  a  series  of  anti-climaxes  leading 
directly    to   the   conclusion. 


210       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

In  arranging  the  groups  it  is  essential  that  they  be 
disposed  so  that  the  climax  is  properly  emphasized  in 
the  minds  of  the  spectators.  A  large  stage  requires  the 
use  of  mass  with  the  groups  well-centred  to  secure  the 
proper  effect.  Likewise  the  position  at  the  moment  of 
climax  must  be  held  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time  for 
the  meaning  to  carry.  This  is  particularly  necessary  out- 
doors where  strength  and  breadth  of  treatment  are  essen- 
tial. When  the  climax  and  the  end  of  the  music  are 
reached  simultaneously,  with  the  dancers  still  upon  the 
stage,  the  groups  must  leave  without  musical  accompani- 
ment, yet  still  sustain  the  atmosphere  and  spirit  of  the 
dance. 

After  mood,  action,  rhythmic  progression,  and  climax 
have  been  determined,  the  next  task  is  the  selection  and 
arrangement  of  the  steps  to  fit  the  type  of  dance  and 
the  movements  required.  It  is  as  well  to  remark  again 
that  the  steps  themselves  are  not  movement,  but  the 
elements  which  are  combined  to  make  movement.  In 
natural  dancing,  which  has  to  evolve  its  own  technique, 
steps  are  studied  as  functions  of  the  fundamental  move- 
ments of  the  body,  together  with  the  mental  states,  or 
emotions,  to  which  they  correspond.  As  a  foundation  for 
the  study  of  bodily  movements  expressing  the  emotions, 
foiu"  elements  are  recognized.  These  are:  walking,  run- 
ning, leaping,  and  twirling.  Natural  dancing  founds  its 
technique  on  the  various  possible  developments  of  these 
four  natural  movements.  In  each  case  the  mood  to  be 
portrayed  fixes  the  quahty  of  the  step,  as  its  speed,  its 
regularity,  or  the  reverse,  and  so  on. 


THE  DANCE  211 


Walking  may  thus  express  dignity  or  excitement,  — 
gay  buoyancy  of  spirit,  or  sorrow  and  depression,  or  even 
despair.  To  portray  excitement  and  joy,  the  step  will 
be  hght  and  elastic,  quick  and  emphatic,  such  as  is  charac- 
teristic of  the  festival  march  or  a  triumphant  military 
procession.  Dignity  is  shown  by  a  stately,  gracious  step, 
slower  than  ordinary,  combined  with  perfect  body-poise. 
Such  a  step  belongs  to  wedding  marches  and  the  minuet. 
Sorrow  and  depression  are  expressed  in  a  slow,  solemn, 
dragging  step,  with  the  body  relaxed  and  swaying  from 
side  to  side. 

Running,  leaping,  and  twirling  depict  a  high  level  of 
excitement,  the  expression  of  tense  joyous  emotion,  and 
again,  at  times,  of  fear  and  terror.  As  with  the  walk, 
each  movement  chosen  is  designed  to  correspond  to  the 
desired  emotion  which  the  progress  of  the  action  at  that 
point  has  determined.  Thus  the  whole  structure  of  the 
dance  is  a  minute  study  of  the  action  in  terms  of  dramatic 
emotion.  The  interpretation  is  synthetized  from  these 
emotions  and  the  steps  are  the  means  whereby  the  emo- 
tions are  conveyed  to  the  minds  of  the  spectators. 

The  relation  of  steps  to  the  rhythmic  progression  brings 
into  consideration  the  principles  of  repetition,  contrast, 
pause  (suspense),  and  rise  and  fall  of  movement,  —  which 
have  already  been  referred  to  but  not  examined. 

Repetition  is  primarily  a  form  of  emphasis,  but  one 
which  has  rather  severe  limitations  when  applied  to  the 
dance.  To  rep)eat  a  certain  movement  once  or  twice  is 
to  enhance  its  beauty  of  effect  and  its  meaning;  to  repeat 
it  more  than  three  times  usually  causes  the  movement  to 


212       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

lose  its  effect.  Repetition,  however,  of  a  musical  motif 
associated  with  a  particular  character  is  a  help  in  inter- 
preting the  dance.  The  repetition  of  the  music  and  the 
reappearance  of  the  character  with  a  certain  movement 
serves  to  mark  the  dramatic  importance  of  the  particular 
division  of  the  dance.  In  general  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
repetition  has  the  same  value  in  the  dance  that  it  has  in 
drama  and  pictorial  composition,  but  may  not  be  used 
quite  as  frequently. 

Contrast  in  the  dance  is  as  important  as  it  is  in  color 
and  grouping.  Clearly,  it  is  possible  to  work  out  con- 
trast in  various  ways,  from  contrasts  of  mood  and  action 
to  its  introduction  in  the  various  steps  or  details  of  the 
dance.  Thus  ideas  in  conflict  with  but  subordinate  to 
the  main  idea  may  be  brought  in,  as  in  the  storm  dance 
already  described.  The  appearance  of  the  moon  maiden 
gave  a  strong  contrast  to  the  central  idea  at  the  moment 
of  climax.  Minor  contrast  was  introduced  by  a  figure 
personifying  lightning,  who  darted  to  and  fro  among 
the  storm  winds.  Again,  variations  in  the  pace  and  tempo 
of  a  movement  produce  contrast.  In  a  long  dance  it  is, 
for  practical  reasons  such  as  the  physical  exhaustion  of 
the  performers,  impossible  to  have  a  continuously  ascend- 
ing scale  of  movement  toward  the  climax.  But  it  is  not 
necessary  on  this  account  to  halt  the  action  and  thus 
destroy  the  unity  of  the  dance.  Contrast  in  tempo  will 
not  interrupt  the  progress  of  the  action,  while  it  gives 
the  performers  the  needed  relaxation.  Especially  in  out- 
door dancing  much  contrast  in  tempo  is  desirable,  since 
the  most  effective  movements  are  slow,  ending  in  pauses 


I'l'.,t„  /-v  ./.   //.  S!r,r-1,   lluK'.vrr,  \.  II. 


JoV 


THE  DANCE  213 


held  for  an  appreciable  instant  of  time.  Variations  of 
tempo  prevent  monotony  in  the  effects  achieved.  Con- 
trast also  strengthens  the  impression  made  by  individual 
movements,  as  when,  if  an  ascending  motion  is  intended, 
the  performer  first  lowers  the  body  by  way  of  preparation. 

Contrast  can  also  be  obtained  by  varying  the  size  of 
the  groups,  as  at  an  entrance,  when  one  figure  first  appears, 
then  two  or  three  more,  until  finally  a  large  group  emerges; 
or  by  the  reverse  process,  with  a  single  performer  left 
alone  on  the  stage  after  the  others  depart.  Naturally 
the  formation  and  size  of  the  groups  should  be  varied 
not  only  from  dance  to  dance  but  from  figure  to  figure 
within  the  dance.  It  is  an  easy  matter  to  fall  into  a 
routine  in  disposing  the  groups,  with  the  result  that  each 
dance  is  very  like  the  last.  The  director  must  constantly 
strive  for  variety  and  contrast  in  the  use  of  his  groups. 
The  various  divisions  of  the  stage,  particularly  if  there 
are  several  levels,  will  assist  him  in  gaining  contrast. 

Pause  and  rise  and  fall  of  movement  are  closely  bound 
up  with  the  action;  in  fact,  they  are  the  chief  means  by 
which  the  action  is  interpreted.  Pauses  can  be  used  to 
mark  the  divisions  of  the  action  and  a  change  in  mood, 
as  well  as  to  serve  in  marking  susp>ense  and  climax.  The 
rising  movements  will  be  characterized  by  rapid  or  em- 
phatic steps;  falling  movementii  by  their  op|)osites.  The 
general  plan  of  the  dance  will  give  sufficient  instructions 
for  the  kind  of  steps  which  mark  the  approach  to  a  pause, 
or  the  rising  and  falling  movements. 

As  in  grouping,  so  in  the  dance,  entrances  and  exits 
should  receive  careful  consideration.     The  dance,  as  far 


214       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

as  its  mood  is  concerned,  begins  with  the  entrance  of  the 
first  performer,  whether  that  person  comes  alone  or  is 
only  one  member  of  a  large  accompanying  group.  To  see 
a  number  of  performers  who  are  to  interpret  a  symbolical 
dance  suddenly  run  upon  the  stage,  face  their  audience, 
and  then  wait  for  the  moment  of  the  dance's  beginning 
can  only  result  in  disillusionment.  The  entrance  should 
be  so  constructed  that  it  will  be  the  first  movement  of 
the  dance  and  a  definite  part  of  the  rhythmic  progression. 
Fairies,  for  example,  must  be  fairies  from  the  moment 
they  are  first  seen,  and  not  seem  to  be  a  group  of  people 
coming  in  who  are  going  to  be  fairies  in  a  few  minutes. 
It  is  therefore  best  to  suggest  the  mood  through  a  few 
preliminary  movements  at  the  moment  of  entrance.  If 
large  groups  are  suddenly  hurled  onto  the  stage  before 
the  audience,  the  latter  will  be  some  time  adapting  their 
imaginations  to  the  intended  idea  and  part  of  the  effect 
wiU  be  lost.  Dancers  representing  forest  breezes,  for 
example,  may  first  be  shown  as  fleeting  groups  blowing 
across  a  path  and  disappearing,  after  the  manner  of  a 
light,  fitful  summer  air.  Such  a  movement  repeated  once 
or  twice  before  the  dancers  reach  the  portion  of  the 
stage  assigned  will  prepare  the  audience  for  understanding 
the  mood  intended. 

It  is  a  mistaken  idea,  although  one  commonly  current 
with  amateur  producers,  that  the  entrance  of  a  group  of 
dancers  must  be  rapid  to  be  effective.  It  is  much  more 
important  to  take  time  sufficient  for  the  audience  to  grasp 
the  spirit  of  the  scene.  Even  a  solo  dancer  may  have  an 
entrance  lasting  two  or  three  minutes,  ff  she  possesses  the 


THE  DANCE  215 


skill  needed  to  hold  the  audience's  attention.  A  skilful 
combination  of  movements  that  foreshadow  the  story 
or  idea  to  follow  will  keep  the  spectators'  interest.  A 
solitary  figure  dancing  down  a  winding  path  from  a  hill- 
top would  be  a  more  dramatic  entrance  than  the  same 
figure  hurrying  in  from  the  wings  as  if  a  solo  dance  were 
her  whole  reason  for  being  there.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  action  may  require  in  certain  dances  a  rush  and  a 
sweep  across  the  stage,  followed  by  a  plunge  into  the 
centre  of  the  movement. 

Exits  are  of  even  more  importance  than  entrances,  for, 
with  the  conclusion,  the  final  impression  is  made  upon 
the  minds  of  an  audience.  A  faulty  entrance  may  be 
overcome  by  the  beauty  of  the  dance  that  follows,  but  a 
weak  exit  will  destroy  the  entire  effect.  The  dancers 
must  live  their  parts  until  they  disappear  from  the  scene 
of  action.  If  they  relax  at  the  end,  they  will  step  right 
out  of  the  picture  and  the  charm  will  be  broken.  Hence 
they  should  never  back  off  facing  an  audience,  and  so 
make  it  evident  they  are  dancing  instead  of  interpreting 
a  scene.  If  the  dancers  represent  fairies  who  are  frightened 
at  the  entrance  of  mortals,  they  should  run  away  in  seem- 
ing fear,  —  not  troop  off  as  if  their  one  object  was  to 
crowd  back  to  the  dressing  room  thankful  that  their  part 
was  done.  It  is  really  the  last  person  on  the  stage,  no 
matter  how  large  the  group  is,  that  carries  the  whole 
responsibihty  for  the  dance.  Upon  the  dancer's  ability 
to  carry  the  idea  and  atmosphere  of  the  scene  as  long 
as  he  or  she  is  visible  rests  the  final  impression.  Once 
more,  as  in  the  case  of  the  entrance,  the  exit  of  a  dance 


216        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

may  be  slow,  if  the  action  demands  it.  A  vision  slowly 
vanishing  in  the  distance,  —  a  winding  procession  of 
slowly  moving  figures  disappearing  one  by  one,  —  may 
be  more  dramatic  than  any  sudden  rush.  The  point  is 
that  neither  entrance  nor  exit  is  to  be  considered  inde- 
pendently of  the  dance;  they  are  both  bound  up  with 
the  dramatic  action  to  be  represented. 


PART  II 


PART  II 
REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING 

AS  in  rehearsing  the  actors,  the  rehearsals  of  the 
dances  include  the  training  of  individuals  and 
groups.  In  large  spectacles,  particularly  in  historical 
pageants,  the  dancing  is  mainly  carried  on  by  groups; 
the  solo  dances  are  usually  only  a  brief  part  of  the  per- 
formance. The  director's  most  exacting  work  is  to  train 
these  large  amateur  groups  who  perhaps  know  nothing 
of  the  dance  save  what  they  have  learned  in  the  ball- 
room. The  soloists  are  usually  chosen  because  they  are 
already  competent,  so  that  the  bulk  of  the  rehearsing  is 
devoted  to  the  group. 

The  successful  teaching  of  large  groups  depends  first 
of  all  upon  thorough  organization;  the  number  of  re- 
hearsals needed,  the  time  at  which  they  are  to  be  held, 
the  place,  and  last  of  all  a  disciphnary  system  to  insure 
attendance,  must  be  all  planned  in  advance.  From  eight 
to  fifteen  rehearsals  are  necessary,  according  to  the  ability 
and  previous  experience  of  the  material,  for  the  average 
dance.  Obviously  complicated  plot  dances  which  depend 
upon  absolute  precision  of  movement  to  carry  the  dra- 
matic effect  will  need  more  rehearsals  than  the  quieter 
interludes.  Accuracy  in  resjxjnding  to  the  music  cues 
must  be  insisted  on  from  the  beginning.  Uniformity 
upon   the  part  of  each   person   composing   the  group   is 


220       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

essential,  so  that  the  preliminary  rehearsals  must  be  con- 
ducted much  like  military  drill.  The  director  may  add 
to  or  cut  down  the  number  of  rehearsals  according  as  his 
performers  develop   slowly   or  rapidly. 

Among  the  details  of  organization  is  the  question  of 
dress  for  rehearsals.  The  dancers  should  wear  a  costume 
in  which  they  are  free  to  move  and  breathe.  Unsuitable 
tight-fitting  clothes  may  result  in  actual  physical  harm. 
If  the  dancers  will  have  soft  draperies  to  manipulate, 
they  should  rehearse  in  a  costume  similar  in  its  fines  to 
the  one  they  are  to  wear  in  the  performance.  The  dancer 
must  above  aU  seem  to  be  famifiar  with  her  draperies 
and  their  floating  movements.  Likewise,  the  director  can 
better  study  the  fines  and  masses  of  the  dance  from  the 
beginning.  Cheese-cloth  sfips  are  inexpensive  and  may 
be  easily  made  to  imitate  the  general  eflfect  of  the  final 
costume.  The  proper  training  of  the  feet  requires  atten- 
tion to  the  footgear.  Bare  feet  or  stocking  feet  are  pref- 
erable, cis  muscular  control,  balance,  and  poise  cu^e  more 
easily  learned  w^th  the  feet  in  natural  positions.  If  this 
is  not  practical,  white  canvas  sandals  should  be  worn,  or 
the  rubber-soled  "sneaker,"  or  even  the  regulation  ballet 
sfipper.  Ordinary  everyday  shoes  should  not  be  used 
under  any  circumstances. 

The  director  appoints  leaders  to  each  group.  These 
leaders  keep  a  record  of  the  names  and  addresses  of  aU 
the  members  and  a  record  of  the  attendance.  AU  absences 
not  absolutely  imavoidable  should  carr>'  the  penalty  of 
a  smaU  fine.  Since  fines  are  always  difficult  to  coUect, 
the  best  system  is  to  require  from  everybody  the  deposit 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  221 

in  advance  of  a  certain  sum  from  which  their  fines  are 
to  be  deducted,  and  the  balance  returned  at  the  end  of 
the  rehearsals.  If  all  the  members  are  impressed  with 
the  proper  spirit  of  enthusiasm  no  such  system  is  needed. 
The  director  must  use  his  or  her  own  discretion  in  the 
matter  of  requiring  regular  attendance.  Extreme  irregu- 
larity should  result  in  dropping  that  individual  from  the 
group.  As  far  as  possible  the  responsibihty  for  all  the 
minor  details  of  organization  is  left  in  the  hands  of 
the  group  leaders,  and  they  report  to  the  director. 

At  the  first  rehearsal,  the  director  tells  the  story  of 
the  whole  production,  as  well  as  the  part  the  particular 
group  is  to  play  in  it.  It  is  essential  that  they  under- 
stand their  relationship  and  their  relative  importance  in 
the  spectacle.  Next  let  them  learn  minutely  the  story  of 
their  own  dance.  If  it  is  a  folk-dance,  they  must  know 
the  reason  for  its  introduction,  its  arrangement,  its  mean- 
ing, and  its  historical  connection  with  the  folk-lore  of 
the  country  in  which  it  originated.  No  dance  should 
ever  be  taught  as  a  mere  combination  of  steps  to  be 
learned  by  rote.  In  the  same  way,  plot  and  symbolical 
dances  are  analyzed  and  explained.  The  more  compli- 
cated the  dance,  the  more  detailed  must  be  this  pre- 
hminary  instruction. 

Wlienever  practical,  the  dance  rehearsals  should  be  held 
on  the  actual  stage  which  is  to  be  used  in  tlie  production. 
Thorough  famiharily  with  the  stage  is  important,  par- 
ticularly in  the  open  air,  where  the  surroundings  seem  at 
first  strange  and  unfamiliar.  The  dancers  must  become 
accustomed    to    uneven    ground,    to    the    entrances    and 


222        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

exits,  and  to  the  other  pecuharities  of  their  particular 
stage.  Let  the  director  take  one  part  of  the  dance  and 
have  his  performers  picture  its  movement  against  the 
background;  have  the  dancers  experiment  with  runs, 
leaps,  bends,  with  movements  fast  and  slow,  until  each 
individual  begins  to  feel  at  home  upon  the  chosen  stage. 
If  for  any  reason  the  real  stage  is  not  available  until 
later  on,  a  hall  whose  area  is  as  large  as  possible,  even 
approximately  equal  to  the  space  the  dance  is  to  cover, 
should  be  obtained  for  rehearsals.  Large  dances  cannot 
be  taught  in  a  cluttered  room.  All  these  preliminaries 
may  be  gone  through  without  music.  The  latter  is  needed, 
however,  when  the  actual  building  of  the  dance  begins. 

The  rehearsal  of  the  dance  proper  includes  a  systematic 
routine  in  the  technique  of  the  dance.  These  exercises 
in  technique  form  the  foundation  of  every  rehearsal.  The 
performers  are  first  taught  the  elements  of  body  control, 
poise,  rhythm,  and  expression  of  idea.  The  next  step 
is  to  develop  these  exercises  so  that  they  are  expressive 
of  various  moods.  Walking,  running,  leaping,  and  twirl- 
ing should  be  tried,  first  in  the  mood  of  the  intended  dance, 
and  then  as  the  expressions  of  different  moods.  For 
example,  there  is  a  great  contrast  between  the  walk  of 
a  mihtary  march  and  that  of  a  Greek  processional  dance, 
—  the  one  is  a  regular  march  rhythm,  the  other  one  ex- 
pressive of  rehgious  fervor  and  ecstasy.  Then  let  the 
group  give  their  own  ideas  of  such  different  walks  as, 
say,  a  birthday  march  or  a  wedding  march.  The  director, 
of  course,  will  help  with  suggestions  and  corrections. 

The  next  exercise  is  to  teach  the  dancers  to  skip  grace- 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  223 

fully  —  a  matter  which  is  not  as  simple  as  it  sounds. 
The  skip,  both  forwards  and  backwards,  demands  perfect 
balance  and  control.  The  backward  skip  of  the  average 
person  is  apt  to  be  an  ungainly  movement  until  a  sense 
of  balance  has  been  mastered.  Again,  let  the  skip  be 
tried  in  varying  moods,  as  that  of  a  peasant,  with  a 
heavy  accent  on  the  ground,  then  lighter,  as  in  a  joyous 
dance  on  a  village  green,  and  finally  as  that  of  a  fairy, 
in  which  the  ground  is  barely  touched.  In  each  case  the 
object  is  to  make  the  dancers  feel  and  then  to  teach  the 
expression  of  the  feehng.  They  leam  the  value  of  each 
movement  not  as  an  artificial  gesture  or  pose,  assumed  for 
a  mere  momentary  effect,  but  as  the  interpretation  of  an 
emotion  that  they  five.  Nor  are  all  movements  neces- 
sarily graceful;  it  is  more  necessary  that  these  movements 
be  true.  Truth  in  the  dance  does  not  mean  photographic 
reahsm,  any  more  than  it  does  in  the  other  arts,  but  it 
is  rather  the  creation  in  the  minds  of  the  audience  of  a 
feeUng  of  reahty,  an  impression  that  the  interpreter  is 
inspired  by  and  successfully  portraying  a  true  idea. 

The  director  next  proceeds  to  have  his  dancers  illus- 
trate the  other  movements  of  running,  leaping,  and  twirl- 
ing in  the  same  way.  The  object,  again,  is  to  express  a 
complete  idea  in  each  movement,  not  to  teach  movement 
for  its  own  sake.  These  principles  of  technique  cannot 
all  be  given  in  one  lesson;  they  should  be  introduced 
gradually  into  the  work  of  the  class,  with  particular  at- 
tention to  the  pupils'  power  of  absorption.  These  princi- 
ples, if  well  learned,  will  always  remain  as  jruides  to  any 
future  work  in  the  dance  which  members  of  the  group 


224       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

may  wish  to  carry  on.  Of  course,  if  time  is  limited  and 
the  production  must  be  turned  out  as  soon  as  possible, 
there  will  be  opportunity  to  tredn  the  groups  only  in  the 
fundamentals  that  belong  to  the  particular  type  of  dance 
they  are  learning. 

The  elementary  exercises  in  rhythm  may  accompamy 
the  first  steps  in  technique,  or  be  taught  separately.  A 
feehng  for  rhythm  is  essential  as  a  foundation  for  all 
movement.  At  the  same  time  the  average  pupil  lacks 
an  appreciation  of  the  importance  of  rhythm  in  action, 
posture,  movement,  and  speech.  The  elements  of  rhythm 
include  instruction  in  such  simple  ideas  as  time,  note 
values,  accent,  and  simple  phrasing.  An  example  of  an 
exercise  covering  these  fundamentals  is  as  follows:  have 
the  class  practise  a  simple  rim,  to  a  musical  accompani- 
ment, first  in  two-four  time,  then  a  change  to  four-four, 
six-eight,  three-four,  and  so  on.  Soon  the  group  will 
learn  to  distinguish  between  these  differences  in  time, 
and  readily  change  from  one  to  the  other.  The  director 
may  vary  these  and  similar  exercises  at  will,  until  it  is 
reasonably  certain  that  the  group  have  acquired  a  feeling 
for,  and  a  response  to,  rhythm. 

Once  these  general  exercises  have  developed  a  certain 
degree  of  proficiency  in  the  group,  the  complete  dance  is 
presented  to  them.  If  it  is  an  original  plot  or  interlude 
dance,  the  group  should  be  kept  interested  in  its  creation. 
To  do  this,  they  should  be  permitted  a  share  in  the  up- 
building and  interpretation  of  the  ideas.  It  is,  of  course, 
easier  for  the  director  to  work  out  his  dance  and  teach 
it  by  rote,  as  he  would  a  folk-dance,  but  in  a  new  dance 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  225 

much  of  the  result  depends  upon  the  spontaneous  feeling 
with  which  the  dancers  interpret  it.  Furthermore,  the 
rehearsals  will  be  far  more  enjoyable  for  the  participants 
if  the  director  guides  them  through  suggestions  rather 
than  through  commands.  Let  the  director  give  the 
group  certain  definite  steps  which  correspond  to  the  mood 
of  the  dance,  and  then  have  the  group  analyze  these 
steps.  Other  suggestions  will  be  made  by  various  mem- 
bers, some  of  which  the  director  will  experiment  with  until 
he  is  convinced  that  the  best  means  of  expression  has  at  last 
been  found.  Since  the  group  have  been  sharers  in  and  con- 
tributors to  this  creative  process,  they  will  throw  themselves 
into  their  work  with  more  spontaneity  and  conviction  than 
would  have  been  possible  under  any  other  circmnstances. 

Care  must  be  taken  to  keep  the  criticism  of  the  group 
constructive,  while  the  director  must  be  prepared  to  give 
clear  and  convincing  reasons  for  his  acceptance  or  rejec- 
tion of  the  offered  suggestions.  The  director  must  know 
why  certain  movements  suggest  waves  and  others  are  too 
heaAry  to  represent  them;  why  swaying  grass  can  be 
shown  in  one  way  and  seem  artificial  if  tried  in  another.' 
He  is  on  his  guard  against  steps  which  involve  elaborate 
and  affected  pointing  of  the  feet,  because  these  are  remi- 
niscent of  the  ballet.  His  chief  task  is  to  keep  the  im- 
aginations of  his  dancers  stimulated.  The  routine  of 
rehearsals  is  varied  by  the  introduction  of  other  exercises 
in  which  the  dancers  attemj)t  the  expression  of  other 
ideas  different  from  those  of  the  dance  they  are  learning. 

'  It  is  ohviouH  that  this  knowIwlKi'  is  »  niatt«'r  of  lasic.  and  instinct,  not 
of  set  rul<^  and  fonmiia. 


226       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

Even  if  the  outdoor  stage  is  not  procurable  until  the 
date  of  the  actual  perfonnance  is  approaching,  as  many 
of  the  rehearsals  as  possible  should  be  held  in  the  open 
air.  There  is  a  great  difference  between  the  effect  of  a 
dance  on  an  indoor  stage  and  one  in  the  open.  For  this 
reason  the  performers  must  be  made  as  familiar  as  possi- 
ble with  the  conditions  of  their  stage.  Even  if  it  is  not 
possible  to  have  music  for  the  earlier  rehearsals,  let  the 
performers  walk  through  their  dances  on  the  actual  stage. 
In  open-air  technique  all  the  movements  are  broad  and 
strongly  marked,  otherwise  they  do  not  carry.  A  dance, 
rehearsed  exclusively  indoors,  that  seems  full  of  variety 
and  contrast  may  often  prove  weak  and  ineffective  when 
viewed  in  a  larger  perspective.  The  remedy  is  not  so 
much  to  increase  the  rapidity  of  the  tempo  as  it  is  to 
strengthen  the  emphasis,  to  lengthen  the  pauses,  and  to 
bmld  up  the  vigor  and  expressiveness  of  the  movements. 
Frequently,  the  grouping  will  require  altering  to  readjust 
its  composition  to  wider  angles  of  vision.  For  all  these 
reasons,  if  outdoor  rehearsals  are  left  until  the  day  of  the 
dress  rehearsal,  it  will  then  be  too  late  to  make  the  neces- 
sary corrections  which  the  change  of  locahty  has  shown 
to  be  advisable. 

WTien  the  rehearsals  have  used  up  about  three-quarters 
of  the  time  left  before  the  performance,  the  dance  should 
then  be  structurally  completed.  It  is  well  to  set  a  definite 
date  in  advance,  so  that  music  and  all  other  details  wiQ 
be  jBnished  by  that  time.  After  this  the  dance  must  not 
be  altered  in  its  main  outline;  a  few  minor  changes  may 
still    be   made,    and   finishing   touches    added,    but   with 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  227 

amateurs  particularly  there  should  be  a  fair  number  of 
rehearsals  in  which  no  further  tinkering  or  shifting  about 
occurs.  Unless  the  performers  are  letter-perfect  in  the 
mechanical  structure  of  the  dance,  such  as  the  entrance 
and  exit,  the  various  groupings  and  mass  movements, 
they  will  be  Uable  to  an  attack  of  stage  fright  which  will 
throw  the  scene  into  confusion. 

The  remaining  rehearsals  are  directed  to  gaining 
accuracy  and  perfection  in  the  mechanical  aspects  re- 
ferred to  and  in  smoothing  out  the  rhythm,  in  the  tech- 
nical mastery  of  the  formal  steps  and  in  careful  practice 
of  the  transitions  to  the  contrasting  movements.  It  is 
also  necessary  for  the  dancers  to  learn  thoroughly  their 
music.  Difficulties  in  musical  phrases  should  be  repeated 
again  and  again  until  the  time  and  accent  are  surely 
grasped.  When  convenient,  the  musical  director  should 
explain  his  music  to  the  dancers,  showing  them  how  his 
music  interprets  the  ideas  which  they,  as  dancers,  are 
expressing  through  movement. 

The  most  important  of  all  the  rehearsals  is  the  one 
with  the  fuU  orchestra.  There  should  be  more  than  one 
of  these,  if  funds  allow,  but  as  the  expense  of  orchestra 
rehearsals  is  heavy,  this  may  not  be  practical.  To  the 
uninitiated  who  have  only  heard  their  dance  music  played 
on  the  piano,  the  music  of  the  orchestra  will  at  first  be 
confusing.  The  group  must  be  able  to  recognize  their 
music  cues  and  the  melodies  which  govern  their  move- 
ments, —  matters  which  the  orchestration  may  seem  to 
obscure  in  comparison  with  a  piano.  The  orchestra  should 
play  the  selection  through  once  while  the  dancers  listen: 


228       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

then  the  group  should  try  the  dance  and  the  music  to- 
gether, and  this  should  be  repeated  as  many  times  as  may 
be  necessary. 

During  the  perfonnance  the  group  leaders  are  respon- 
sible for  the  entrance  and  exit  cues,  and  also  for  the  signals 
for  all  the  movements  on  the  stage.  A  well-trained  group, 
once  they  are  upon  the  stage,  should  follow  their  music 
and  the  movements  of  the  dance  almost  unconsciously, 
but  the  group  leaders  must  always  be  prepared  to  help 
in  any  moment  of  hesitation  or  confusion.  On  a  large 
stage  it  is  possible  to  speak  quite  loudly,  if  necessary, 
without  its  being  apparent  to  the  audience.  Upon  the 
group  leaders  also  fall  the  duties  of  looking  over  the 
costumes  to  see  that  everything  is  in  order,  and  to  note 
if  the  dancers  carry  flowers,  scarfs,  ribbons,  or  other 
properties,  that  each  person  is  properly  equipped.  The 
leaders  will  see  their  people  assembled  back  of  the  en- 
trance in  ample  time  to  allow  all  these  details  to  be  looked 
after.  The  director  must  see  that  one  invariable  rule  is 
enforced:  the  dancers  should  never  be  permitted  to  carry 
anything  on  the  day  of  the  performance  that  they  have 
not  become  famiUar  with  in  rehearsal. 

Solo  dances  offer  quite  a  different  problem  and  one 
which  is  more  directly  concerned  with  the  type  and  size 
of  the  stage  used.  On  a  large  outdoor  stage  with  a  diver- 
sified and  broken  background  a  solo  figure  may  be  quite 
lost.  On  the  other  hand,  sometimes  a  dark  natural  setting, 
or  a  well-placed  fore-stage,  will  give  the  solo  artist  as  good 
an  opportunity  as  would  an  indoor  stage.  Much  depends 
upon  the  persontdity  of  the  soloist  out  of  doors.     Is  her 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  229 

stage  presence  such  that  the  attention  of  the  audience 
can  be  caught  and  held?  The  director,  in  deciding  this 
question,  must  remember  that,  in  the  open  air,  facial 
expression  and  dainty,  small  gestures,  however  perfectly 
executed,  are  practically  useless.  The  scale  of  the  stage 
so  dwarfs  the  figm^e  that  all  movements  must  be  large 
and  vigorous  if  this  defect  is  to  be  overcome.  There  is 
little  chance  for  contrast  in  the  dance  itself,  since  the  dancer 
is  limited  to  strong  eflfects.  With  these  handicaps,  even 
a  dancer  of  experience  would  have  difficulty  in  holding 
the  attention  of  the  audience  for  more  than  two  or  three 
minutes  in  the  main  portion  of  her  dance.  Solo  dances, 
therefore,  should  not  be  introduced  on  a  large  outdoor 
stage  unless  the  dancer  has  experience  and  stage  presence, 
and  even  then  it  is  better  to  make  them  brief,  or  else 
combine  them  with  group  action. 

A  soloist  may  bring  with  her  a  group  of  attendant 
figures,  either  singers  or  dancers,  whose  costumes  are  so 
designed  that  they  make  the  soloist  conspicuous  by  con- 
trast, but  the  chief  objection  to  this  is  the  inartistic  effect 
of  a  group  standing  about  with  nothing  to  do  while  the 
soloist  performs.  If  the  group  moves  about,  either  there 
is  confusion  of  effect  or  the  soloist  becomes  merged  into 
the  group.  One  j)ossible  solution  is  for  the  soloist  to 
detach  herself  from  a  processional  group,  and  dance  while 
the  procession  halts,  —  as  was  done  in  the  mediaeval 
triumphs  and  progresses.  Again,  skilful  grouping  can  do 
much  to  narrow  down  the  angle  of  vision  of  a  large  stage, 
the  only  difficulty  being  to  find  natural  things  for  the 
groups  to  do  which  will  not  detract  from  the  soloist. 


230       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

On  small  intimate  stages,  of  whatever  type,  —  whether 
indoor  or  outdoor,  —  the  solo  dance  has  the  same  value, 
in  its  proper  proportion,  that  other  dramatic  elements 
possess.  In  planning  a  solo  dance,  whether  for  the  large 
or  the  small  stage,  the  method  of  approach  involves  the 
same  principles  that  have  already  been  considered  not 
only  in  building  the  large  group  dance  but  in  the  con- 
struction of  all  portions  of  the  production.  The  dance, 
once  more,  is  a  clear  expression  of  an  idea;  it  may  not 
be  vague  or  indefinite.  There  is  no  place  in  the  solo  for 
the  purely  descriptive  passages  of  movements  which  may 
mark  transitions  in  the  group  dance.  The  soloist,  then, 
in  constructing  the  dance,  must  continually  ask  not  only 
herself  but  those  qualified  to  judge  whether  each  step, 
as  it  is  worked  out,  really  conveys  the  meaning  intended. 
The  freedom  of  her  personafity  is  restricted  by  this  fun- 
damental limitation  which  affects  all  artists.  To  perform 
inexphcable  movements  on  the  ground  that  they  are 
characteristic  of  her  personafity  is  no  more  permissible 
than  it  would  be  for  an  artist  to  daub  a  canvas  with  hap- 
hazard splashes  of  color  and  then  defend  himself  by  main- 
taining that  his  personafity  could  be  free  only  under  such 
conditions.  Natural  demcing  is  a  form  of  rhythmic  panto- 
mime, and  one  of  its  first  tasks  is  to  make  itself  understood. 
The  soloist,  therefore,  needs  the  help  of  several  onlookers 
while  she  is  working  out  her  dance,  not  to  criticize  her 
steps  but  to  teU  her  what  her  dance  conveys  to  them.  She 
must  be  willing  and  eager  to  rebuild  it  again  and  again 
until  it  does  reveal  the  intended  idea.  Nothing  which 
passes  on  a  stage  from  the  simplest  spoken  word  to  the 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  231 

most  complicated  mass  grouping  may  be  without  mean- 
ing. The  drama  is  not  a  medium  for  the  study  of 
occultism.  Sometimes  a  solo  artist,  whether  a  dancer  or 
the  employer  of  some  other  medium,  imagines  that  any- 
thing unintelligible  is  artistic,  particularly  if  it  be  sur- 
rounded by  an  atmosphere  of  the  unusual.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  there  is  nothing  esoteric  about  art.  There  can  be 
no  such  thing  on  the  stage  as  an  art  that  is  over  the 
heads  of  the  audience.  If  in  some  way  the  artist  cannot 
find  the  secret  of  reaching  the  audience,  then  that  artist 
has  failed.  The  soloist,  therefore,  must  work  again  and 
yet  again  upon  the  interpretation  of  her  dance,  until 
its  meaning  and  its  beauty  stand  forth  clear  and  un- 
obscured. 

A  solo  dance  is  constructed  almost  identically  after  the 
manner  of  the  group  dance,  but  for  convenience  one 
illustration  is  given.  In  The  Magic  of  the  Hills  the  follow- 
ing solo  plot  dance  occurred.    The  text  read: 

*^The  Indian  maiden  takes  from  her  neck  a  talismxin^ 
saying  to  her  lover:  'Here  is  a  token  to  keep  you  safe 
upon  your  journey.  It  is  an  old  talisman  of  the  tribe 
belonging  to  the  days  when  men  understood  the  voices 
of  the  hills.'  The  maiden  then  dances  for  her  lover  the 
Dance  of  the  Talisman.'' 

Thus  the  plot  defines  fairly  well  the  mood  and  action 
of  the  dance.  The  Indian  character  determines  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  the  type  of  step.  Beyond  these  things,  the 
dancer  is  left  freedom  of  interpretation.  It  happened  that 
the  Indian  legend  did  not  belong  to  any  particular  period 
or  tribe,  so  that  there  was  opportunity  to  combine  the 


232       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

characteristic  steps  of  several  tribes.  Since,  however,  the 
spirit  of  the  drama  was  idealistic  and  not  a  realistic  treat- 
ment of  Indian  folk-lore,  it  was  advisable  to  adhere  to 
type  only  sufficiently  to  create  the  suggestion  of  an  Indian 
atmosphere.  The  key  idea  of  the  dance  was  the  fact  that 
the  maiden  was  offering  to  her  lover  a  sacred  object; 
therefore  the  first  part  of  the  dance  needed  a  ceremonial 
character.  The  taUsman  was  a  bear's  claw,  as  the  text 
showed  further  on,  and  this  gave  the  clue  for  making  the 
last  part  of  the  dance  a  pantomimic  representation  of  the 
himting  of  the  bear.  As  finally  worked  out  the  dance 
was  rendered  in  this  way:  the  maiden  slowly  took  the 
bear's  claw  from  her  neck  and  raised  it  upward  toward 
the  Great  Spirit;  then  she  walked  straight  forward  with 
solemn,  rhythmic  steps,  and  placed  it  on  the  ground  in 
the  centre  of  the  stage.  Next  she  retreated  from  it,  with 
equal  deliberation,  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  sacred 
object.  Following  this,  she  wove  a  circle  of  slow,  shuffling 
steps  about  the  talisman,  keeping  her  body  turned  toward 
it,  and  performed  a  series  of  incantations  with  outstretched 
palms.  Having  completed  her  circle,  she  paused.  At  this 
point  came  the  transition  of  mood,  which  formed  a  sharp 
contrast  with  the  ceremonial  beginning.  After  a  moment's 
pause,  she  seized  a  bow  and  arrow  and  began  the  panto- 
mimic hunt  of  the  bear.  Her  movements  were  now  large 
and  free,  expressive  of  the  excitement  and  joy  of  the 
chase;  first  came  the  tracking  of  the  animal  in  the  woods, 
the  discovery,  the  pursuit,  the  loosing  of  the  fatal  arrow, 
and  finally  the  triumphant  cutting  off  of  the  claw.  This 
done,  the  dance  changed  again  to  the  ceremonial  character 


REHEARSAL  AND  TRAINING  233 

of  the  opening,  as  she  returned  to  her  lover  and  placed 
the  talisman  about  his  neck. 

This  example  will  serve  to  make  clear  what  is  meant 
by  constructing  a  solo  dance  that  is  the  drsunatic  expres- 
sion of  an  idea.  Each  movement  was  carefully  calculated 
to  make  plain  to  the  audience  the  meaning.  In  like 
manner  the  musical  accompaniment  of  such  a  dance  is 
composed  to  fit  that  dance  and  no  other.  Indian  melodies 
may  form  the  basis,  but  they  cannot  be  any  Indian 
melodies,  chosen  at  random.  As  in  the  case  of  the  group 
dances,  the  musical  director  collaborates  with  the  dance 
creator  that  their  combined  efforts  may  perfectly  har- 
monize. 


Chapter  X 
MUSIC 

Thee  the  voice,  the  dance  obey, 

Temper  d  to  thy  uxwbled  lay. 

O'er  Idalia's  velvet-green 

The  rosy  crowned  Loves  are  seen 

On  Cytherea's  day 

With  antic  Sports,  and  blue-eyed  Pleasures 

Frisking  light  in  frolic  measures; 

Now  pursuing,  now  retreating. 

Now  in  circling  troops  they  meet: 

To  brisk  notes  in  cadence  beating 

Glance  their  many-twinkling  feet." 

—  Gray:   The  Progress  of  Poesy. 

MUSIC  is  the  connecting  medium  that  joins  and 
completes  each  separate  part  of  a  production.  Its 
function  is  therefore  an  organic  one,  as  it  was  in  Greek 
drama,  a  part  of  the  unified  conception  of  the  whole. 
Too  often  music  in  drama  and  pageantry  is  treated  as 
merely  an  incidental  accompaniment,  a  trapping  of  sound 
added  at  the  last  moment,  or  chosen  arbitrarily  without 
due  regard  to  the  purport  and  idea  of  the  spectacle.  But 
it  is  by  means  of  music  that  dance,  color,  word,  and  gesture 
may  all  blend  together  to  achieve  the  final  conception. 
In  short,  music  is  one  of  the  great  expressive  forces  of 
drama,  now  helping  to  suggest  the  atmosphere,  and  again 
translating  to  our  emotions  the  mood  of  each  succeeding 
scene.      Thus   it   can   serve    to   deepen   impressions,    to 


MUSIC  235 

strengthen  dramatic  movement  and  climax,  as  well  as 
to  convey  to  us  the  connecting  ideas  Unking  scene  to 
scene.  Obviously,  then,  the  power  of  music  in  its  relation 
to  a  particular  production  is  one  of  the  primary  factors 
which  the  director  must  keep  uppermost  in  his  mind,  as 
he  conceives  the  working  out  of  his  spectacle.  If  he 
regards  it  as  merely  a  question  of  selecting  incidental 
musical  compositions,  to  be  played  here  and  there,  as 
his  fancy  dictates,  the  result  will  be,  on  the  musical  side, 
a  drama  of  shreds  and  patches. 

The  value  of  music  in  drama  is  primarily  emotional. 
This  is  the  key  to  the  consideration  of  the  problem  of 
its  use  in  a  given  production.  Music  can  bring  out  the 
depth  of  feehng  of  some  great  dramatic  movements  more 
comprehensively  than  dance,  pantomime,  or  word,  since 
its  appeal  is  direct  to  our  emotions.  It  interprets  in  terms 
of  feeling,  hence  it  prepares  the  mind  of  the  audience  by 
putting  it  into  a  receptive  mood  to  understand  the  emo- 
tions which  it  is  the  object  of  a  given  scene  to  arouse. 
In  drama  much  that  appeals  to  the  reason  alone  can  be 
best  expressed  through  words,  but  the  final  aim  of  drama 
is  to  stir  the  emotions.  Words  can  do  this  only  to  a 
limited  extent.  Color,  movement,  music,  these  three,  on 
the  stage,  most  deeply  stir  our  emotions.  Music  can  take 
up  the  author's  meaning  at  the  point  where  words  cease 
to  be  effective,  since,  in  one  sense,  music  might  be  de- 
scribed as  the  subhmated  essence  of  things  which  are  above 
words.  It  alone  can  adequately  express  the  spirit  of  a 
composition  and,  further,  it  can  convey  the  very  spirit 
of  the  characters  themselves. 


236       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

It  is  needless  to  point  out,  since  they  are  familiar  to 
everybody,  the  examples  of  Richard  Wagner's  music 
dramas.  In  these  works  is  found  a  perfect  union  of 
music  with  drama  which  has  not  existed  since  the  days  of 
Athenian  tragedy.  The  drama,  the  poetry,  and  the  music 
are  conceived  each  one  in  terms  of  the  other,  and  each  is 
necessary  to  complete  the  other.  They  are  at  the  same 
time  interchangeable  in  their  emotional  values  and  in- 
divisible. They  represent  the  greatest  genius  of  modern 
drama  —  a  model  to  strive  toward,  but  not  to  imitate. 

Mere  imitation,  by  lesser  minds,  of  the  works  of  genius 
can,  of  course,  yield  only  sterile  results.  What  the  fol- 
lower can  do,  however,  in  default  of  genius,  is  to  keep  such 
an  ideal  drama  as  his  model,  as  a  spirit  which  guides  his 
mind  in  striving  to  attain  further  progress.  From  Wagner 
he  can  learn  what  it  means  to  think  of  music  as  an  integral 
part  of  a  great  dramatic  spectacle.  He  will  not  try  to 
write  a  Wagnerian  music  drama  as  a  consequence,  but  he 
will  keep  in  mind  the  theory  of  art  which  this  ideal  has 
set  up  before  him.  Here  is  the  spirit  in  which  music  as 
an  element  of  drama  is  conceived.  Keeping  this  in  mind, 
the  pageant  producer  will  approach  his  musical  problems 
from  a  more  inteUigently  artistic  ipoint  of  view. 

Music  is  not  only  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  art  problems 
which  the  producer  must  solve,  but  it  is  also  one  of  the 
most  difficult  of  the  practical  questions.  First  in  impor- 
tance comes  the  selection  of  the  music  director.  Endeavor 
should  be  made  to  find  a  local  man  who  is  fitted  to  carry 
out  the  work  of  composing  and  organizing  the  music, 
since  the  aim  of  pageantry  is  to  develop  all  the  arts  in 


MUSIC  237 

a  community.  He  must  be  a  man  who  is  sympathetic 
toward  the  union  of  music  and  drama  —  not  one  who 
looks  upon  music  in  this  case  as  an  independent  art.  He 
need  not,  however,  be  a  man  of  wide  experience,  provided 
he  has  abihty  and  enthusiasm.  Community  drama  and 
pageantry  offer  to  the  young  composer  his  opportunity. 
Like  the  other  amateur  artists  associated  with  the  pro- 
duction, it  is  his  chance  to  find  himself.  In  the  larger 
cities  it  is  usually  not  a  difficult  matter  to  discover  a 
musician  who  will  answer  acceptably  the  needs,  even 
though  he  may  not  be  destined  to  be  a  genius.  Smaller 
communities  present  greater  difficulties,  and  here  it  is 
often  necessary  to  use  the  services  of  a  professional.  The 
latter  is  apt  to  be  more  perfunctory  in  his  work,  doing 
his  allotted  task  and  no  more.  He  is  not  so  quick  or 
eager  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  production,  nor  to 
sympathize  with  the  musical  needs  of  a  community  to 
which  he  does  not  belong.  On  one  thing,  however,  the 
producer  must  insist.  His  musical  director,  whoever  he 
may  be,  should  write  his  music,  whenever  possible,  in 
close  touch  with  the  community  where  the  pageant  is  to 
be  produced.  It  is  less  advisable  to  have  someone  sit  in 
a  distant  studio  and  compose  music  for  a  pageant  at  long 
range.  The  composition  of  the  music  must  go  hand  in 
hand  with  the  building  of  the  production,  if  artistic  unity 
is  to  result. 

The  pageant  master,  even  though  himself  not  a  musician, 
will  have  to  guide  his  musical  director,  whether  amateur 
or  professional,  in  the  requirements  of  the  particular 
production.     The  two  must  work  together  constantly  in 


238       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

order  that  they  may  in  the  end  arrive  at  a  common  ideal, 
which  is  that  of  the  pageant  as  a  whole.  Cooperation  of 
arts  and  artists  is  what  commimity  drama  requires  — 
not  the  independence  of  geniuses  working  each  for  himself. 
The  experienced  musician  may  often  feel  that,  owing  to 
the  pressure  of  his  other  duties,  he  can  give  only  a  limited 
amoimt  of  time  to  the  undertaking.  This  is  another  reason 
why  the  young  and  ambitious  composer  will  usually  obtain 
better  results. 

The  director  once  chosen,  his  duties  should  be  made 
clear  in  a  contract  stating  exactly  the  scope  of  his  work. 
These  will,  of  course,  vary  according  to  the  elaborateness 
and  nature  of  the  production;  but  the  work  of  the  aver- 
age director  consists  in  writing  original  music,  research 
in  folk-songs  and  dances,  and  the  choosing  of  any  other 
musical  material  required.  He  is  also  responsible  for 
having  the  music  orchestrated  and  copied,  for  organizing 
and  training  the  choruses  and  orchestra,  and  for  conducting 
at  rehearsals  and  performances.  In  large  productions  he 
may  have  several  assistants,  but  his  responsibihty  for  the 
general  supervision  of  the  music  and  all  details  connected 
with  it  remains  the  same. 

Where  finances  do  not  warrant  the  engagement  of  a 
musical  director,  the  details  of  the  musical  arrangements 
wiU  be  left  to  a  volunteer  cormnittee  subject  to  the  advice 
and  direction  of  the  pageant  master.  A  local  competition 
for  the  original  music  desired  may  be  organized,  and 
thus  much  interest  aroused.  But  if  original  music  is  un- 
obtainable, the  last  resource  is  to  select  compositions  as 
appropriate  as  may  be  found. 


MUSIC  239 

Music  which  is  chosen  here  and  there  can  never  be  as 
satisfactory  from  an  artistic  point  of  view  as  original 
compositions.  This  is  true  even  if  the  selected  music  is 
by  world-famous  composers.  The  better  known  the  music, 
the  more  it  is  apt  to  have  associations  for  the  audience 
which  are  contrary  to,  or  remote  from,  the  spirit  of  the 
new  production.  Famihar  music  may  often  destroy  the 
whole  unity  of  the  conception.  It  tells  not  the  story 
the  author  intended;  instead  it  may  tell  a  quite  different 
story  which  the  audience  heard  years  ago  and  cannot 
banish  from  their  minds.  Thus  a  fire  dance  interlude  to 
Wagner's  fire-music  cannot  be  made  a  unified  thing  be- 
cause of  the  associations  this  music  carries  with  it.  Never- 
theless, music  is  often  chosen  on  some  such  theory  of 
appropriateness  as  this.  The  crux  of  the  matter  is  that 
selected  music  can  never  be  wholly  appropriate  to  its  new 
setting.  There  are,  however,  degrees  of  appropriateness  — 
greater  or  less  —  and  the  only  thing  the  director,  or  his 
committee,  can  do  is  to  choose  the  greater  rather  than 
the  less. 

The  exceptional  case  when  selected  music  may  be  made 
absolutely  suitable  is  in  choosing  folk-songs,  dances,  and 
airs  which  belong  to  a  particular  historic  period  to  be 
represented.  In  fact  a  modem  composer  may  fail  utterly 
to  catch  the  spirit  of  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  cen- 
turies in  his  original  work,  unless  he  have  a  sensitive 
appreciation  of  his  task.  The  selection  of  folk-music  is 
not  nowadays  a  difficult  task,  owing  to  the  completeness 
with  which  modem  scholars  have  gathered  the  material. 
The  chief  caution  is  to  adhere  as  closely  as  possible  to 


240        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

the  known  dates,  so  that  a  seventeenth-century  episode 
does  not  end  with  a  song  written  in  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth.  The  director  may  be  trusted  to  have  a  due 
regard  for  these  matters. 

There  still  remain  a  number  of  artistic  and  practical 
questions  to  consider  in  composing  pageant  music.  It 
has  already  been  said  that  the  composer  works  hand  in 
hand  with  the  pageant  master.  Not  only  should  the 
music  interpret  correctly  the  mood  and  spirit  of  the 
individual  scenes  and  of  the  pageant  as  a  whole,  but  it 
should  possess  local  color.  It  ought  to  include  a  feeling 
for  the  traditions  of  the  community  for  which  it  is  written. 
Thus,  if  the  performance  is  intended  for  a  fishing-village 
or  a  town  by  the  sea,  the  music  will  suggest  in  its  simpler 
moments  the  old  sea-chanties,  and  in  its  more  elaborate 
phases  the  awe  and  mystery  of  hves  lived  by  the  sea. 
To  a  mountain-folk  the  music  will  express  the  freedom 
and  vastness  of  the  hills;  to  a  city  people,  again,  it  will 
seem  to  have  caught  the  very  spirit  of  city  life. 

In  like  manner,  the  music  for  the  dance  interludes  is 
governed  by  the  structure  and  meaning  of  the  dance. 
Once  more  the  dance  director,  the  pageant  master,  and 
the  musician  are  foimd  working  side  by  side,  experiment- 
ing, making  changes,  —  possibly  mutual  concessions,  — 
until  the  desired  result  is  worked  out  in  its  entirety.  The 
composer  tries  to  express  each  idea  presented  to  him  in 
definite  themes  or  motifs,  which  later  the  audience  wiU 
learn  to  recognize  and  interpret  as  they  hear  them  played. 
If  time  allows,  the  more  elaborate  compositions  and 
choruses  should  be  rehearsed  on  the  stage  before  the  final 


MUSIC  241 

dress  rehearsal,  that  the  dramatic  effect  of  all  the  more 
important  music  may  be  carefully  studied.  Then,  too, 
the  perfonners  should  have  an  opportunity  to  become  as 
famihar  as  possible  with  all  the  music,  since  this  will 
help  them  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  final  effort. 

Music  is  closely  aUied  to  the  setting  and  the  color 
harmony,  for,  like  these,  it  has  a  direct  emotional  appeal 
through  its  power  to  suggest.  It  can  be,  therefore,  a 
great  help  in  creating  at  the  outset  the  atmosphere  desired. 
A  prelude,  for  example,  may  convey  not  only  the  music 
of  a  historic  period,  but  the  mood  in  which  the  audience 
are  to  put  themselves.  The  latter  may  be  suggested 
through  tone  quahties  alone,  —  as  sombre,  or  gay,  or 
inspiring,  as  the  case  may  be,  —  or  through  melodies  that 
are  full  of  associations  for  a  particular  locaHty,  such  as 
the  airs  which  belong  to  the  traditions  of  the  town.  Again, 
a  pageant  opening  with  an  episode  concerning  the  mound 
builders  would  have  a  musical  prelude  suggesting  the 
strange,  the  unknown,  and  the  barbaric.  Here  we  have 
no  means  of  knowing  what  the  music  of  the  mound 
builders  was  like,  yet  the  requisite  atmosphere  can  be 
conveyed  to  the  audience  by  a  simple  strongly  marked 
rhythm  constantly  repeated  without  variation. 

It  often  happens,  however,  that  the  pageant  drama 
reproduces  scenes  from  the  hves  of  ancient  or  primitive 
peoples  concerning  whose  music  there  are  traditions,  or 
possibly  may  be  a  httle  learning  in  the  minds  of  the 
audience.  The  modem  composer,  of  course,  will  neither 
ignore  the  traditions  nor  the  historical  facts  in  arranging 
music   for   these   episodes.     For   instance,   of  the   three 


242       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

fundamentals  of  music,  melody,  rhythm,  and  harmony, 
the  primitive  peoples  attached  the  greatest  emphasis  to 
rhythm.  It  was  the  most  completely  systematized  ele- 
ment in  ancient  music.  The  rhythmic  sense  is  quickly 
aroused  through  bodily  movements,  and  so  the  dance 
was  universally  associated  with  music,  both  as  an  expres- 
sion of  pleasure  and  in  rehgious  ceremonials.  In  fact,  it 
is  doubtful  if,  in  early  times,  music  and  the  dance  ever 
existed  apart  from  one  another.  This  characteristic  is 
worth  noting  because,  once  remembered,  it  gives  the  clue 
to  the  types  of  rhythm  belonging  to  primitive  music.  The 
rhythm  itself  was  marked  by  beating  on  a  tom-tom 
or  similar  percussion  instrument.  Harmony  was  the  one 
element  of  music  which  was  lacking  in  ancient  times,  the 
chief  office  of  the  various  musical  instruments  being  to 
mark  the  rhythm. 

Since  ancient  or  primitive  music  was  so  different  from 
that  of  modem  times,  the  question  always  arises  as  to 
how  far  the  present-day  composer  should  go  in  attempting 
historic  accuracy.  Should  the  revival  of  Greek  drama  and 
festivals  have  music  which  is  to  a  certain  extent  imita- 
tive of  what  is  known  of  the  Greek  scale,  or  simply  a 
dignified  composition  based  on  our  theories  of  music? 
Which  method  will  best  convey  to  a  modem  audience  the 
desired  atmosphere?  The  answer  really  depends  on  the 
abihty  of  a  given  audience  to  understand  and  appreciate 
an  archaic  form,  or  even  an  approximation  of  an  archaic 
form.  In  most  cases  it  is  better  to  proceed  as  one  would 
with  the  mound  builders'  episode,  and  compose  music 
which  is  suggestive  by  its  strangeness,  yet  which  has  the 


MUSIC  243 

elements  of  beauty  modem  ears  demand.  Rhythm  may 
be  emphasized  and  the  nmnber  of  instrmnents  employed 
reduced.  In  other  words,  the  problem  is  not  so'  much  a 
question  of  compromise  as  it  is  the  frank  adoption  of 
another  convention  in  heu  of  one  that  is  no  longer  under- 
stood. Just  as  the  dialogue  of  Greek  tragedy  is  translated 
into  Enghsh  for  the  convenience  of  the  audience,  so  it  is  more 
satisfactory  to  translate  the  music.  The  same  holds  true  of 
Chinese  or  Indian  or  other  music.  Not  until  the  period  of 
folk-song  is  reached  is  hteral  reproduction  advisable. 

The  airs  and  melodies  of  folk-songs  should  be  left  alone. 
They  are  beautiful  in  themselves,  but  they  are  too  fragile 
to  blend  successfully  with  heavier  music.  A  medley  is, 
therefore,  to  be  avoided,  unless  the  composer  has  great 
feehng  and  skill.  In  the  same  way,  folk-songs  must  be 
carefully  chosen  to  fit  the  desired  conditions.  Select 
those  that  are  most  characteristic,  most  beautiful,  and 
most  suited  to  the  subject-matter  of  the  episode.  Much 
of  the  effectiveness  of  folk  songs  and  dances  may  be  in- 
creased by  using  the  original  instruments.  In  the  Eng- 
lish morris,  for  instance,  the  dance  was  accompanied  by 
the  pipe  and  tabor.  These  were  played  by  a  single  per- 
former, who  manipulated  the  stops  of  the  httle  pipe  with 
the  fingers  of  his  left  hand  while  the  right  was  free  to 
tap  the  tabor  suspended  from  his  left  wrist  by  a  thong. 
In  later  times  the  fiddle  and  concertina  replaced  the  pipe 
and  tabor  in  the  morris. 

It  is,  however,  difficult  to  procure  and  to  leam  how  to 
play  the  old  instruments,  valuable  as  these  are  for  con- 
tributing to  the  illusion.     Furthermore,  in  the  open  air, 


244       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

they  do  not  possess,  by  themselves,  suflficient  volume  of 
somid  to  fill  a  large  space  and  must  be  reenforced  by  similar 
instruments  in  the  orchestra.  Yet  even  if  the  actual 
instruments  are  unobtainable,  it  is  worth  using  "property" 
ones  for  the  sake  of  the  atmosphere. 

The  practical  aspects  of  the  music  are  governed  by  the 
orchestral  resources  available.  The  composer  must  not 
be  too  ambitious  or  he  may  write  beyond  the  capacities 
of  an  amateur  orchestra  to  perform.  He  should  adhere 
to  the  underlying  principles  of  clearness  and  simphcity, 
together  with  appropriateness,  unless  it  happens  that  a 
large  professional  orchestra  is  to  be  at  his  disposition. 
In  that  case  he  may  enjoy  a  full  measure  of  freedom  in 
his  work,  submitting  only  to  the  spirit  of  the  occasion. 
An  amateur  orchestra,  however,  requires  simple  though 
not  commonplace  music.  Furthermore,  the  more  elaborate 
the  music  the  greater  becomes  the  cost  of  having  it  played. 
.  Copying  and  orchestrating  music  are  expensive  and  take 
time.  To  have  orchestration  done  professionally  costs 
approximately  twenty  dollars  for  four  pages.  Copying 
is  done  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  to  twenty  cents  a  page. 
Amateur  orchestras  do  not,  as  a  rule,  readily  read  manu- 
script music.  Every  increase  in  the  elaborate  nature  of 
the  music  requires,  therefore,  a  longer  period  of  time  for 
preparation  and  rehearsal.  AU  these  factors  the  music 
director  wiU  bear  in  mind  and  make  his  plans  accordingly. 

Often  a  pageant  or  community  drama  is  to  be  produced 
in  a  town  possessing  a  conservatory  or  school  of  music, 
or  a  college  with  a  department  of  music.  Many  of  the 
problems    of   composing,  orchestrating,  or  selecting    the 


MUSIC  245 

music  may  be  turned  over  to  this  institution,  the  head  of 
which  will  probably  willingly  serve  as  musical  director  of 
the  production.  At  Smith  College,  for  example.  Pro- 
fessor Sleeper  makes  the  composition  of  the  music  for  the 
Commencement  spectacle  part  of  the  required  curriculum 
of  the  music  department.  In  other  words,  the  possible 
resources  of  a  given  community  are  thoroughly  considered 
when  the  pageant  master  looks  over  the  ground,  and 
everything  which  the  community  offers  is  to  be  preferred 
to  any  outside  assistance. 

The  music  chosen  or  composed,  the  organization  of  the 
orchestra,  is  the  next  difficult  question  to  be  faced.  Large 
professional  orchestras  are  expensive,  —  often  far  beyond 
the  financial  resources  of  the  average  production,  —  and 
yet  the  open  air  demands  not  only  volume  of  sound  but 
good  music.  The  ordinary  theatre  orchestra  of  eight  or 
ten  pieces  is  useful  only  as  a  nucleus.  It  cannot  fill  a 
large  open-air  stage.  Perhaps  a  town  possesses  an  amateur 
organization  of  some  kind,  even  if  only  a  high  school 
group,  which  can  be  combined  with  the  available  pro- 
fessionals. Scattered  through  the  town  are  a  number 
of  individual  performers.  These  must  be  sought  out  and 
induced  to  join  the  pageant  orchestra. 

The  amateurs,  once  gathered  together,  will  need  several 
weeks  of  rehearsing  and  training  before  they  will  play 
acceptably.  The  musical  director  must  either  undertake 
this  work  of  training,  or  appoint  a  capable  assistant  to 
do  it  for  him.  Since  the  professionals  are  the  largest 
element  of  cost,  they  need  not  join  the  orchestra  until 
the  final  rehearsals.     If  an  entirely  professional  orchestra 


246       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

is  employed,  it  is  well  to  remember  that  the  cost  of  each 
rehearsal  is  one  half  that  of  a  regular  performance. 

If  time  allows,  the  amateur  orchestra  should  be  organ- 
ized in  the  autimm,  so  that  regular  rehearsals  and  concerts 
may  be  held  aU  winter.  A  small  charge  for  admission  to 
the  concerts  wiU  accumulate  a  fund  for  the  purchase  of 
additional  instruments,  or  defray  the  cost  of  music  lessons 
for  certain  individuals  in  the  group.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  the  pageant  orchestra  may  grow  into  a  permanent 
organization. 

The  engagement  of  professionals  is  quite  another  ques- 
tion. Where  the  musical  union  is  in  control,  the  orchestra 
must  be  composed  entirely  of  imion  men.  Amateurs  are 
not  allowed  to  play  in  the  same  orchestra.  The  prices 
for  rehearsals  and  performances  are  standardized  by  the 
rules  of  the  imion  and  no  modifications  are  permissible. 
It  is  necessary  to  draw  up  a  written  contract  with  the 
professional  orchestra  stating  clearly  the  exact  dates  for 
rehearsals  and  performances,  the  number  of  men  to  be 
furnished,  and  the  hours  they  are  to  play,  together  with 
the  price  to  be  paid  for  their  services.  If  this  is  not  done, 
the  final  expense  is  likely  to  exceed  the  budget  allowance. 
The  pageant  master  must  assure  himself  that  his  musicfJ 
director  has  made  all  the  arrangements  for  organizing  the 
orchestra  on  a  business-like  basis. 

In  organizing  an  orchestra  it  is  of  first  importance  to 
obtain  a  proper  balance  of  its  parts.  This  balance  is 
analogous  to  that  of  a  quartette  of  singers  composed  of  a 
tenor,  alto,  soprano,  and  bass.  A  well-balanced  orchestra 
possesses  the  quality  of  all  four  registers  without  any  one 


MUSIC  247 

of  them  too  predominant.  The  instruments  available  for 
orchestral  use  are  divided  into  three  classes:  stringed, 
wind,  and  percussion.  The  relative  values  of  these  three 
classes  depend  entirely  upon  the  place  where  they  are  to 
be  used.  Indoors,  in  a  haU  with  good  acoustics,  the  strings 
are  the  important  element.  In  a  large  armory  the  strings 
lose  a  good  deal  of  their  effectiveness  and  the  wind  instru- 
ments are  the  more  necessary.  Out  of  doors,  in  a  small 
grove,  strings  and  wind  combined  give  good  results,  while 
on  the  large  outdoor  pageant  stage,  the  strings  lack  suffi- 
cient carrying  power,  and  thus  tone  quahty  and  volume  are 
lost.  The  most  successful  large-scale  outdoor  orchestra  is  a 
combination  of  wind  and  percussion  instruments. 

However,  there  are  certain  other  facts  to  bear  in  mind 
in  planning  the  orchestra.  Strings  command  a  great 
range  of  tone  which  they  can  hold  as  long  as  desired. 
They  can  also  play  at  any  rate  of  speed,  with  any  amount 
of  force,  and  with  the  greatest  variety  of  expression.  The 
bowed  instruments  can  be  played  for  any  length  of  time 
without  fatiguing  the  performer,  while  with  the  wind 
instruments  the  players  must  have  frequent  periods  of 
rest  to  regain  their  breath.  Again,  the  listener  can  enjoy 
the  string  tones  for  a  longer  period  than  those  produced 
by  wind.  These  matters  are  all  important  in  planning  a 
production  where  almost  continuous  music  is  desired. 

In  a  stringed  orchestra  the  strings  compose  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  entire  group,  in  the  proportion  of  five  first 
violins,  four  second  viohns,  three  violoncellos,  three  violas, 
and  two  double  basses.  The  double  bass  is  an  important 
instrument  for  securing  foundation  and  is  better  in  this 


248       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

capacity  than  the  violoncellos.  It  is  difficult  to  find  ama- 
teur viola  players  in  small  towns  and  country  districts. 
The  strings  usually  carry  the  melodies  because  they  can 
play  long-sustained  passages.  They  may  occasionally  be 
silent,  for  the  sake  of  contrast.  The  harp  is  used  chiefly 
for  accompaniment. 

The  wind  instruments  are  divided  into  two  groups,  the 
wood  wind  and  the  brass.  The  wood  wind  are  the  more 
important,  particularly  in  the  open  air,  where  they  are 
rehed  upon  to  replace  the  strings.  In  this  group  are 
flutes,  oboes,  clarinets,  and  bassoons  —  to  which  may  be 
added  the  piccolo  and  Enghsh  horn,  the  bass-clarinet, 
and  the  contra-bassoon.  The  group  is  not  homogeneous, 
and  hence  is  less  frequently  used  en  masse  than  is  the 
case  with  the  strings.  Wood  wind  instruments  yield  con- 
trasting and  color  effects,  but  they  are  more  monotonous 
in  tone  than  the  strings,  although  they  are  easier  to  learn 
to  play.  In  the  open  air  good  use  can  be  made  of  the 
flute  to  interpret  hght  and  dehcate  passages  that  indoors 
would  be  assigned  to  the  strings.  The  most  useful  of  the 
wood  wind  instrmnents  is  the  clarinet,  because  of  its 
great  range  and  beautiful  quahty.  Bassoons  serve  princi- 
paUy  to  reenforce  the  bass. 

The  brass  instruments,  comprising  horns,  trumpets, 
trombones,  and  tuba,  all  require  great  dehcacy  and  cer- 
tainty in  the  management  of  the  performers'  hps  and 
breath,  if  this  portion  of  the  orchestra  is  to  keep  its  proper 
balance.  In  nearly  every  town  there  is  a  brass  band 
whose  services  may  be  enhsted,  but  to  combine  it  success- 
fuUy  with  the  other  players  is  another  matter.     UsuaUy 


MUSIC  249 

these  bands  pride  themselves  upon  the  vigor  of  their 
playing,  £ind  to  induce  them  to  become  a  subordinate 
part  of  an  amateur  orchestra  requires  both  tact  and  several 
rehearsals.  In  an  outdoor  production  the  brass  may  be 
allowed  a  heavier  share  of  the  balance  than  is  possible 
indoors.  But  in  each  case  care  must  be  taken  that  there 
is  not  a  preponderance  of  bi^ass  sound.  In  certain  episodes, 
of  course,  brass  will  best  render  the  spirit  of  the  scene. 
Thus  the  tone  quahty  of  the  horn  may  be  graduated 
from  sonorous  and  blaring  to  the  mysterious  and  poetic. 
The  trumpet  is  noble  and  brilhant;  it  is  especially  well 
adapted  for  short  stirring  passages,  while  its  military 
association  makes  its  use  in  battle  scenes  a  necessity. 

For  simple  orchestras,  the  best  combination  of  these 
instruments  is  that  known  as  the  brass  quartette:  two 
comets,  a  horn,  and  a  trombone.  One  of  the  cornets 
may  take  the  place  of  a  trumpet  and  play  the  same  music, 
but  it  will  not  be  so  fine  in  tone.  It  is  usually  an  easy 
matter  to  find  players  for  these  instruments.  If  only 
cornet  players  are  available,  a  few  weeks'  practice  will 
enable  them  to  play  fairly  well  on  the  trombone  and  horn. 
The  trombone,  the  alto-horn,  and  the  French  horn  are 
generally  used  for  the  "ofi*-stage"  trumpet  calls  and 
flourishes  and  for  special  atmospheric  effects.  The  tone 
quality  of  a  French  horn  may  be  readily  imitated  by 
placing  a  derby  hat  over  the  bell  of  a  cornet.  The  trom- 
bone and  tuba  are  the  powerful  instruments  of  the  brass 
group  and  may  be  used  to  cover  deficiencies  of  tone  and 
quality  in  the  rest  of  the  orchestra.  The  trumpet  or 
cornet    is    equally    strong    in    sound    volume,    but    being 


250       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

played  at  a  higher  pitch,  the  tones  are  more  shrill  and 
penetrating. 

The  percussion  instruments  include  the  kettle,  bass, 
and  snare  drums.  The  kettle-drums  are  always  used  in 
pairs  and  are  useful  for  keeping  the  orchestra  together. 
They  give  forth  definite  pitch  and  tones.  With  the  drmns 
are  found  the  metaUic  instruments  such  as  the  cymbals, 
the  triangle,  the  bell,  and  the  gong.  The  chief  function 
of  these  is  to  add  an  emotional  effect  of  excitement  during 
the  dramatic  passages. 

The  piano  is  often  used  when  it  is  impossible  to  obtain 
all  the  instruments  for  a  well-balanced  orchestra.  Its 
tone  does  not,  however,  blend  well  with  an  orchestra, 
and  hence  its  use  is  regarded  more  or  less  as  a  makeshift. 
If  used  at  all,  it  should  preferably  be  indoors,  as  in  the 
open  air  it  contributes  httle  or  nothing. 

The  following  table  of  balanced  orchestras  for  a  varying 
number  of  pieces  will  be  found  a  useful  guide. 


No.  of  pieces 

12 

i5 

21 

3o 

43 

5o 

ist  violins 

2 

4 

4 

6 

8 

lO 

ad  violins 

2 

2 

I 

4 
3 

6 
3 

8 

Violsa 

4 

CeUos 

I 

3 

3 

4 

Double-basses 

I 

2 

3 

4 

Flutes 

I 

I 

2 

2 

Clarinets 

2 

2 

2 

2 

Oboe 

o 

o 

O 

o 

2 

2 

Comets 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

2 

Bassoons 

O 

o 

I 

I 

2 

2 

French  horns 

O 

o 

2 

2 

4 

4 

Trumpets 

o 

o 

2 

2 

2 

2 

Trombones 

I 

I 

I 

I 

3 

3 

Tympani 

o 

o 

I 

o 

I 

I 

Drums 

I 

I 

I 

I 

2 

3 

Traps 

I 

I 

I 

I 

I 

I 

MUSIC  251 

In  connection  with  this  table,  it  may  be  noted  that 
with  full  wood-wind  and  brass  sections  almost  any  num- 
ber of  strings  may  be  added.  The  ratio  is  one  violoncello 
and  one  double-bass  for  every  two  first  and  two  second 
violins.  Another  way  of  stating  the  usual  ratio  is  one 
double  bass  to  every  ten  players  in  the  orchestra. 

The  location  of  the  orchestra,  either  indoors  or  outdoors, 
on  the  types  of  stage  preferable  for  use  in  pageantry  and 
community  drama,  is  an  unsolved  problem.  Various 
situations  have  particular  advantages  and  disadvantages; 
none  of  them  is  ideal.  No  definite  suggestions  can  be 
offered,  since  each  production  presents  its  differing  prob- 
lem, according  to  the  acoustics  of  the  locahty,  the  size 
of  the  orchestra,  and  the  relative  importance  of  the  music 
to  the  spectacle  as  a  whole.  The  one  essential  is  that  the 
music  must  be  heard,  both  by  actors  and  by  the  audience, 
particularly  when  processions,  songs,  and  dances  form 
parts  of  the  pageant.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  desirable 
that  the  orchestra  be  invisible,  since  it  forms  no  part  of 
the  picture,  and  an  uncostumed  orchestra  is  not  in  itself 
an  artistic  thing.  All  that  may  be  said  by  way  of  advice 
is  to  enumerate  some  of  the  ways  this  question  of  placing 
the  orchestra  has  been  met  in  a  number  of  pageants. 

In  small  halls,  where  the  entire  spectacle  passes  on  the 
platform  stage,  the  orchestra  occupies  the  same  position 
as  in  the  theatre,  that  is  to  say,  strung  along  between  the 
stage  and  the  audience,  with  the  conductor  in  the  middle. 
In  larger  halls,  where  there  is  a  semicircular  fore-stage 
in  front  of  the  platform,  the  orchestra  is  placed  on  the 
right-hand  side,  looking  from  the  audience.     This  is  the 


252       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

prompt-side  of  the  stage,  from  which  the  pageant  master 
directs  the  performance;  therefore  it  is  better  to  have  the 
orchestra  as  near  him  as  possible.  Wherever  the  orchestra 
is  placed,  the  conductor  must  have  a  clear  view  both  of 
main  and  fore-stage.  This  is  necessary  not  only  to  insure 
the  prompt  taking  of  the  music  cues,  but  if  there  is  choral 
singing  or  dancing,  the  necessity  for  it  is  obvious.  Therefore, 
in  screening  the  orchestra  from  the  view  of  the  pubhc,  care 
must  be  taken  not  to  cut  off  the  conductor's  line  of  sight. 

Outdoors  the  same  two  arrangements  of  the  music  are 
possible,  but  neither  is  quite  satisfactory.  If  the  orchestra 
is  between  the  audience  and  the  stage,  it  will  obstruct  the 
view  of  the  audience.  If  it  is  placed  to  one  side,  there 
will  be  considerable  loss  of  sound,  since  the  tone  volume 
of  the  orchestra  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind  and  the  vast 
open  space.  At  the  St.  Louis  pageant  a  music  shell  was 
built  in  the  centre  of  the  stage  at  the  rear,  screened  in 
such  a  way  that  the  sound  was  not  impeded,  nor  the 
players  seen.  A  partly  sunken  pit  with  a  shell  behind  it, 
placed  directly  on  the  stage,  but  diagonally  to  one  side, 
has  been  tried.  The  objections  to  this  are  that  the  arrange- 
ment is  unsightly,  that  the  complete  view  of  the  stage  is 
interfered  with,  and  that  many  times  the  performers  are 
unable  to  hear  the  music.  At  St.  Albans  a  central  section 
of  the  grandstand  was  given  up  to  the  orchestra  —  a 
plan  that  was  successful  in  that  particular  case  because 
the  grandstand  was  roofed  over.  Also  the  seating  area 
was  so  large  that  the  space  could  be  spared.  Perhaps  the 
best  solution  is  to  have  a  sunken  pit  close  to  the  grand- 
stand.   By  lowering  the  orchestra  the  line  of  sight  is  not 


MUSIC  253 

interrupted,   and  the  sound  reaches  both  audience  and 
performers. 

In  the  open  air  a  special  floor  must  always  be  built  for 
the  orchestra,  whether  they  are  placed  in  a  sunken  pit 
or  on  the  ground  level.  This  floor  must  be  of  sufficient 
area  to  accommodate  all  the  instrumentalists  in  comfort. 
Certain  instruments,  such  as  trombones,  require  more 
floor  space  than  others,  and  this  must  be  taken  into 
account.  Likewise  the  floor  area  should  have  a  roof, 
preferably  shell-shaped,  to  act  both  as  sounding  board 
and  as  protection  against  damp  weather.  For  night  per- 
formances the  hghting  must  be  of  sufficient  briUiancy  to 
enable  the  players  to  read  manuscript  music  easily. 

When  it  comes  time  for  the  chorus  and  dancers  to  re- 
hearse with  the  orchestra,  many  minor  details  wiU  need 
adjustment  and  smoothing  over.  The  regular  accompanist, 
who  has  rehearsed  the  groups  with  a  piano,  has  probably 
developed  certain  individual  characteristics  which  make 
the  orchestrated  music  sound,  at  first,  unfamiliar.  Possibly 
the  tempo  has  been  taken  faster  or  slower  than  the  music 
was  written.  Both  chorus  and  dancers  must  relearn  their 
music  —  or  at  least  become  famihar  with  its  more  elabo- 
rate form.  If  the  music  director  has  been  frequently  pres- 
ent at  the  earher  rehearsals,  so  as  to  guide  the  accompanist 
in  the  proper  interpretations,  less  difficulty  will  be  sub- 
sequently encountered.  Another  valuable  help  is  to  use 
a  violin  as  weU  as  a  piano  during  the  period  of  preliminary 
training. 

The  music  cues  must  be  carefully  studied,  to  avoid 
any  chance  of  the  awkward  stage  waits  which  are  some- 


254       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

times  characteristic  of  amateur  productions.  If  cuts  have 
been  made  in  the  music,  the  director  must  check  all  the 
scores  to  insure  accuracy.  Nothing  is  more  fatal  than 
to  have  a  single  instrument  suddenly  come  in  at  an 
unexpected  place.  In  the  more  elaborate  productions  the 
music  cues  are  given  directly  to  the  conductor  by  signals 
or  bell  connections.  In  smaller  pageants  he  is  responsible 
for  music  cues.  Exit  music  and  finales  should  be  marked 
for  repetition.  It  is  not  always  possible,  on  large  open- 
air  stages,  to  time  exits  with  invariable  accuracy,  and  if 
the '  exit  music  ceases  before  all  the  performers  are  off, 
the  effect  of  the  ending  is  spoiled.  Finally,  the  unity  and 
continuity  of  pageantry  do  not  admit  of  encores  to  any 
of  the  musical  numbers,  whether  they  are  songs  or  dances. 
It  is  desirable  to  have  the  audience  join  in  singing  cer- 
tain of  the  choral  songs,  particularly  in  the  usual  pageant 
hymn.  Some  organization  is  necessary  to  secure  this. 
The  words  and  music,  or  at  least  the  words,  should  be 
printed  and  freely  distributed  through  the  audience. 
The  words  may  be  sent  around  beforehand  to  the  schools 
and  colleges,  or  be  printed  in  the  local  newspapers.  A 
few  members  of  the  chorus  may  be  stationed  in  the  audi- 
ence to  help  start  the  song  and  lend  confidence  to  those 
about  them.  A  specially  written  song,  identified  with  the 
pageant,  is  generally  more  successful  than  one  of  our 
national  anthems.  For  some  reason  an  American  audience 
always  sings  a  national  anthem  in  a  hesitating  way, 
whereas  they  can  be  made  to  respond  with  enthusiasm 
to  a  local  song  which  they  feel  is  identified  with  their 
community. 


MUSIC  255 

As  a  final  word,  pageant  music,  like  the  pageant  itself, 
is  a  matter  of  painstaking  organization  and  attention  to 
details.  Care,  frequent  rehearsals,  and  hard  work  are 
essential  in  making  it  successful.  It  is  not  an  accessory 
to,  but  a  component  part  of,  the  production,  and  there- 
fore it  cannot  be  shghted.  There  is  no  other  element 
that  takes  more  time  to  perfect,  nor  that  yields  such 
abundant  reward  for  the  months  spent  upon  it.  Under 
intelligent  guidance  it  can  be  made  the  very  essence  of 
the  community's  spirit.  This  is  the  music  ideal  for  the 
pageant  worker  to  follow. 


Chapter  XI 
ORGANIZATION 

TO  give  a  pageant  or  production  on  a  large  scale 
requires  the  organization  of  a  complex  system. 
Only  through  business-like  planning  and  preparation  can 
the  production  attain  artistic  and  financial  success.  The 
centre  of  this  organization  is  found  in  the  pageant  master; 
he  suppHes  the  knowledge,  skill,  and  energy  needed  to 
set  the  complicated  machinery  in  motion.  The  prelimi- 
nary work  of  organization  and  preparation  must  begin 
at  least  six  months  before  the  intended  date  of  the  pro- 
duction, —  while  pageants  on  the  largest  scale  will  require 
a  year  or  more.  This  preliminary  work  is  carried  on  by 
means  of  a  number  of  committees  who  cooperate  actively 
with  the  pageant  master  and  with  each  other.  The  pur- 
pose of  this  chapter  is  to  define  the  duties  of  the  pageant 
master  and  his  committees  and  to  suggest  general  methods 
of  procedure.  For  these  reasons,  the  organization  described 
will  be  one  suitable  for  a  pageant  on  the  largest  scale. 
For  smaller  productions  the  number  and  personnel  of  the 
committees  may  be  proportionately  reduced. 

A  community  which  is  considering  the  question  of  a 
pageant  should  first  choose  a  general  pageant  conunittee 
composed  of  prominent  citizens  who  are  representative 
of  all  sides  of  the  town's  interests.     On  this  committee 


ORGANIZATION  257 


should  be  bankers,  merchants,  lawyers,  doctors,  educators, 
clergymen,  labor  leaders,  and  all  who  through  influence 
and  local  affihations  would  be  designated  for  any  list  of 
important  citizens.  The  mayor  of  the  town  and  other 
pohtical  powers  are  naturally  included,  the  mayor  being 
usually  chairman  ex-officio.  The  size  of  this  preliminary 
committee  is  immaterial;  the  important  thing  is  to  have 
it  fully  representative  of  the  city.  For  a  large  pageant 
in  a  good-sized  town  the  committee  will  probably  have 
about  one  hundred  members.^  The  purpose  of  this  com- 
mittee is  not  to  serve  in  an  executive  capacity  but  to 
arouse  the  interest  of  the  community  in  the  pageant. 
Do  the  people  really  wish  to  give  a  pageant?  Will  they 
support  it  financially  and  personally?  These  are  the 
preliminary  questions  that  must  be  answered.  In  other 
words,  the  pageant  conmiittee  conducts  a  campaign  of 
education  through  the  newspapers  and  by  pubhc  assem- 
blies, and  determines  from  the  results  of  this  campaign 
whether  a  pageant  is  advisable.  The  people  must  first 
of  all  learn  something  about  pageantry  before  public 
opinion  can  be  accurately  gauged. 

As  part  of  the  campaign  of  education,  invitations  are 
sent  out  to  a  number  of  pageant  directors  to  come  and 
lecture  on  pageants.  They  will  show  through  pictures 
and  discussions  what  other  cities  have  done,  with  par- 
ticular attention  to  the  value  of  pageantry  to  a  conmiunity 
and  the  particular  needs  of  the  city  in  question.  These 
lectures  and  talks  should  receive  as  wide  newspaper  pub- 
licity as  possible  in  order  that  the  pageant  idea  may  reach 

*  This  was  the  size  of  the  committee  at  Newark,  N.J. 


258       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

a  large  majority  of  the  citizens.  Special  talks  in  the 
schools  will  usually  enlist  a  throng  of  valuable  aUies.  In 
short,  the  project  must  ferment  for  a  while  in  the  minds 
of  the  community  before  its  practicabihty  can  be  ascer- 
tained. 

Let  it  be  assumed,  however,  that  the  promises  of  sup- 
port which  the  pageant  committee  have  received  are 
sufficient  to  justify  them  in  going  ahead.  The  next  step 
is  to  choose  the  pageant  director.  He  may  be  either  one 
of  those  who  lectured,  or,  if  possible,  a  local  man  or 
woman  with  experience  enough  to  imdertake  the  task. 
It  is  literally  true  that  the  success  or  failure  of  the  pageant 
hangs  upon  this  choice.  The  director  must  not  only  know 
how  to  stage  a  large  spectacle,  with  all  the  details  which 
that  work  involves,  but  his  personahty  must  be  of  the 
kind  that  readily  secures  cooperation  and  support.  If 
he  cannot  work  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men 
without  friction,  his  knowledge  of  staging  will  avail  noth- 
ing. Again,  it  is  not  necessarily  sufficient  that  his  experi- 
ence has  been  exclusively  with  professionals,  for  the 
organization  and  rehearsing  of  himdreds  —  perhaps  thou- 
sands—  of  amateurs  is  another  story.  And  last  of  all, 
he  should  be  a  good  business  man  able  to  spend  money 
inteUigently  but  not  wastefuUy.  It  is  easy  to  allow  the 
preliminary  expenses  to  get  out  of  hand  and  thus  make  a 
failure  of  an  otherwise  successful  production.  The  best 
way  to  choose  the  director  is  through  a  small  sub-com- 
mittee appointed  by  the  general  committee.  This  com- 
mittee, being  less  unwieldy,  can  meet  and  investigate  the 
work  of  the  various  candidates  under  consideration.     It 


ORGANIZATION  259 


should  call  for  preliminary  plans  based  on  the  contem- 
plated financial  appropriation,  and  go  over  these  plans 
in  personal  interviews  with  the  candidates.  Finally  they 
reconmiend  to  the  general  committee  the  name  of  a 
particular  individual.  The  latter  then  reports  to  the  whole 
committee  and  gives  a  detailed  explanation  of  his  plan. 
If  this  is  satisfactory,  he  is  appointed,  and  a  careful  con- 
tract is  made  assm-ing  him  full  and  unhampered  responsi- 
bihty  for  putting  the  pageant  on  the  stage. 

The  pageant  master  now  takes  charge  of  the  organiza- 
tion. He  must  carefully  study  his  field  with  a  view  to 
the  best  practical  appHcation  of  his  tentative  plans.  His 
work  falls  into  three  groups:  the  appointment  of  com- 
mittees to  secure  active  cooperation  and  interest  on  the 
part  of  the  conmiunity;  the  artistic  elements  of  the 
spectacle;  and  the  practical  questions  relating  to  the  gen- 
eral management.  Since  the  artistic  side  of  his  problem  has 
formed  the  basis  of  the  preceding  chapters,  only  the  prac- 
tical questions  will  be  dealt  with  here. 

A  good  business  secretary,  either  man  or  woman,  should 
be  appointed  as  a  central  pivot  of  the  organization.  This 
secretary  is  placed  in  an  office  in  an  accessible  part  of 
the  city  and  this  office  is  made  the  clearing-house  for  all 
information  concerning  the  pageant.  Here  is  kept  a  card- 
index  file  of  all  the  local  organizations  whose  cooperation 
might  be  invited,  and  later  on  this  card  system  will  be 
extended  to  include  complete  time-schedules  of  the  re- 
hearsals. The  secretary  will  have  charge  of  the  details 
of  the  publicity  and  will  keep  a  scrap-book  covering  all 
notices  of  the  pageant.    It  is  also  the  secretary's  duty  to 


260       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

answer  all  inquiries,  as  well  as  to  keep  the  reporters  sup- 
plied with  material  for  the  press.  A  preliminary  appro- 
priation will  be  needed  for  oflBce-rent,  the  secretary's 
salary,  stenography,  hght,  heat,  postage,  and  other  inci- 
dentals. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  next  committee  chosen  should  be 
the  finance  committee.  The  general  conmiittee  will  desig- 
nate the  business  men  who  will  serve  in  this  capacity, 
and  the  pageant  master  may  ask  to  have  included  one  or 
two  members  whose  judgment  on  the  artistic  side  of  the 
production  is  valuable.  This  is  a  safeguard  against  reduc- 
ing the  expenses  in  the  wrong  place.  The  pageant  master 
now  submits  to  the  finance  committee,  for  its  approval, 
his  budget,  which  should  be  a  complete  estimate  of  the 
pageant  expenses.  This  budget  is  necessarily  a  comph- 
cated  affair  and  must  therefore  be  studied  with  particular 
care.  Along  with  the  items  of  expenditure  must  go  an 
estimate  of  the  expected  income  and  the  sources  from 
which  it  is  to  be  derived.  The  finance  committee  may 
present  to  the  pageant  master  a  definite  appropriation 
and  instruct  him  to  make  his  estimates  within  that  limit, 
or  it  may  call  upon  him  for  a  budget  based  upon  the 
scale  of  the  contemplated  production. 

The  budget  items  for  expenditure  are  listed  as  follows: 
the  preliminary  organization  and  pubHcity,  and  the  pro- 
duction. Under  the  latter  head  come  the  expenses  of  all 
kinds  which  relate  to  putting  the  spectacle  on  the  stage. 
These  are  subdivided  into  two  general  classes.  The  first 
is  the  front  of  the  house,  which  includes  rent  of  grounds 
or  stage,  erection  of  seats,  Ughting  of  the  stands  or  audi- 


Photo  by  Ira  Hill,  N.  T. 
Groups  in  Movement  and  at  Rest 
{Greek  Games  —  Barnanl) 


CiRfJllMX;.       ()(  TDOOHS 


Photo  bs  Ira  II Ul,  \.   ) 


ORGANIZATION  261 


torium,  ushers,  tickets,  programs,  printing  of  pageant 
book,  transportation,  insurance,  telegraph,  telephone,  and 
labor.  The  other  classification  is  the  stage.  This  includes 
music  with  its  subdivisions,  such  as  salary  of  the  music 
director,  the  payments  for  orchestra  or  band,  orchestration 
and  pm"chase  of  music,  and  the  erection  of  the  music 
stand;  properties,  making  and  hiring;  costuming,  design- 
ing, purchase  of  materials,  making  and  hiring,  and  salaries 
of  wardrobe  women;  necessary  alterations  or  construc- 
tions on  the  stage,  masking  entrances,  planting  trees  or 
shrubs,  putting  the  grounds  in  condition,  fighting,  and  the 
dressing  and  property  tents;  cost  of  rehearsals,  such  as 
hiring  halls,  fight,  and  the  services  of  a  pianist,  the  salaries 
of  director  and  assistants,  the  dance  director  and  her 
assistants.  In  addition,  aUowance  must  be  made  for  such 
varying  items  as  make-up  and  cosmetics,  together  with  the 
remuneration  for  professional  make-up  assistants,  pofice, 
sanitary  arrangements,  ambulance  and  hospital  tent,  and 
general  service  with  other  incidentals. 

To  offset  this  formidable  list  of  expenses  is  the  estimate 
of  income.  The  principal  item  is  of  course  the  gate 
receipts.  What  is  the  total  seating  capacity  and  the 
number  of  seats  at  each  price  .»^  How  many  performances 
are  to  be  given?  Needless  to  say,  it  is  better  to  allow  a 
safe  margin  here  and  not  to  base  the  figures  on  a  capacity 
audience  at  each  performance.  Furthermore,  there  is 
the  weather  to  remember,  that  bugbear  of  open-air  spec- 
tacles. For  some  reason  a  postponed  p)erformance  never 
attracts  as  large  an  audience  as  one  held  on  the  date 
originally  set.    Other  sources  of  income  are:   rent  of  con- 


262       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

cessions  at  the  grounds,  payment  for  costumes  from 
members  of  the  cast  who  wish  to  retain  their  costumes, 
the  sale  of  the  pageant  book  and  illustrated  souvenir 
programs,  the  sale  of  souvenir  medals,  pennants,  and 
badges,  and  the  returns  from  the  automobile  parking 
space. 

It  is  of  course  the  duty  of  the  pageant  master  to  see 
that  his  estimates  are  not  only  within  the  expected  in- 
come, but  that  the  work  of  the  production  does  not  compel 
him  to  exceed  them.  He  must  be  neither  extravagant  nor 
too  optimistic  on  the  subjects  of  expenditures  and  income. 
His  figures  must  be  presented  clearly  and  concisely  to 
pass  the  acid  test  which  the  business  men  of  his  finance 
committee  will  subject  them  to.  Their  knowledge  of  local 
conditions  may  enable  modifications  to  be  made  in  the 
figures  relating  to  the  front  of  the  house.  But  on  matters 
affecting  music,  costuming,  properties,  and  the  staging, 
the  pageant  master  must  stand  firm.  Either  there  is 
money  to  give  the  production  on  the  contemplated  scale, 
or  there  is  not.  If  the  estimates  must  be  reduced,  it 
should  be  done  by  cutting  down  the  number  of  performers, 
not  by  cheapening  the  method  of  production.  The  pageant 
master  should  make  this  quite  clear  at  the  outset  to  avoid 
aU  risk  of  future  misunderstandings. 

A  rigid  business  system  for  spending  the  appropriation 
must  be  devised  and  adhered  to.  This  is  best  done  by 
having  as  treasurer  a  business  man  who  can  give  ample 
time  to  supervising  the  method  of  expending  the  money. 
If  the  pageant  is  dependent  upon  the  income  from  the 
performances,  a  preliminary  guarantee  fund  will  have  to  be 


ORGANIZATION  263 


underwritten  in  order  to  obtain  a  banking  credit.  Against 
this  bank  credit  all  expenditures  are  made  only  through 
printed  order  slips  which  have  to  be  countersigned  by  the 
treasurer.  These  order  shps  bear  the  date,  name  of 
creditor,  description  of  the  item,  and  the  amount.  One 
copy  is  filed  by  the  treasurer  and  the  other  given  to  the 
creditor  to  be  presented  with  his  bill.  No  expenditures 
should  be  recognized,  no  matter  by  whom  incurred,  unless 
made  in  this  way.  The  treasurer  will  record  each  expendi- 
ture, as  he  makes  out  the  corresponding  order  shp,  on 
an  expenditure  sheet,  and  will  keep  close  watch  to  see  that 
the  totals  do  not  nm  over  the  estimate  for  that  particular 
item.  He  can  thus  tell  at  a  glance  at  any  time  exactly 
what  the  financial  status  of  the  pageant  organization  is. 
If  for  any  reason  some  estimates  must  be  exceeded,  this 
can  usually  be  done  by  making  corresponding  reductions 
distributed  over  other  items.  Certain  items  usually  run 
over  the  estimate  while  others  are  under.  Consultations 
between  the  pageant  master  and  the  treasurer  will 
straighten  out  these  cases.  If,  however,  the  expenses 
run  away  with  the  estimates  beyond  a  reasonable  point, 
it  is  evidence  of  the  pageant  master's  incompetency.  In 
the  latter  event  a  complete  revision  of  the  production  will 
be  necessary.  Finally,  to  assure  public  confidence  in  the 
business  side  of  the  pageant,  the  complete  financial  state- 
ment, after  examination  by  auditors,  should  be  pubhshed 
when  the  books  are  closed. 

The  rigidity  of  this  system  does  not  preclude  giving 
special  committees  petty  cash  funds  to  disburse  on  small 
items  without  consultation  with   the  treasurer.     But  all 


264       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

such  expenditures  are,  of  course,  account^  for  and  accu- 
rate sheets  turned  in,  listing  them  in  detail.  They  should 
be  countersigned  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee  in- 
curring the  outlay.  Often  it  is  necessary  to  pay  small 
amounts  at  once,  either  for  convenience  or  to  save  time, 
and  it  would  be  too  cumbersome  to  have  to  see  the  treas- 
urer in  each  case.  The  pageant  master  will,  however, 
warn  his  committees  against  making  payments  out  of  their 
own  pockets  and  then  timiing  in  vouchers  later.  In  a 
large  organization,  if  many  people  are  making  a  series  of 
even  small  payments  on  their  own  judgment  and  responsi- 
bility, a  lot  of  money  will  soon  be  used  up.  The  remedy 
is  a  drastic  but  necessary  one:  vouchers  not  based  on  the 
chairman's  petty  cash  funds  or  signed  by  the  treasurer 
should  not  be  honored.  It  is  seldom  that  any  purchase  is 
so  urgent  that  proper  authority  for  it  cannot  be  soon 
obtained. 

The  finances  arranged  for,  the  pubhcity  committee  will 
begin  an  energetic  campaign  on  behalf  of  the  pageant  and 
the  pageant  idea.  Under  the  latter  heading  come  the 
more  important  but  less  tangible  objects  of  pageantry, 
namely,  to  awaken  civic  pride  and  intelligent  patriotism. 
This  conmaittee  decides  on  what  people  it  is  necessary  to 
interest  directly  and  on  the  answer  to  the  question  "why 
the  community  is  to  give  a  pageant."  Their  work  should 
have  the  result  of  insuring  financial  success  by  securing 
a  large  attendance  and  of  keeping  before  the  people  the 
idea  that  the  pageant  is  not  merely  "a  big  show"  but  a 
matter  of  civic  importance.  All  the  details  of  preparation 
from  the  selection  of  the  historical  material  to  the  design- 


ORGANIZATION  265 


ing  of  the  costumes  they  will  keep  prominently  in  pubhc 
notice.  Everyone  must  know  and  understand  what  is 
going  on.  The  newspapers  will  accept  every  item  that 
can  he  handled  as  news,  particularly  if  the  local  values 
are  emphasized.  Other  material  must  be  presented  as 
paid  pubhcity.  In  addition,  the  committee  will  canvas 
the  business  men,  the  social  leaders,  and  all  the  organiza- 
tions that  might  be  induced  to  cooperate.  Clubs,  schools, 
recreation  centres,  are  all  sources  of  cast  material,  provided 
their  interest  is  aroused  in  the  proper  way. 

The  chedrman  of  this  committee  should  be  a  person 
skilled  in  pubhcity  work.  He  must  guard  himself  against 
sensational  methods,  or  the  advertisement  of  the  pageant 
as  simply  a  gorgeous  spectacle.  His  main  work  has  to 
be  educational,  because  as  yet  pageantry  is  a  new  idea 
to  the  majority  of  people.  It  also  follows  that  the  chair- 
man should  possess  a  wide  local  acquaintance  among  his 
community  and  the  neighboring  towns.  Unlike  the 
pubhcity  connected  with  a  theatre,  pageantry  notices 
are  practically  all  advance  work.  Criticisms  of  the  open- 
ing performance  are  of  httle  importance  compared  with 
the  task  of  educating  and  informing  the  public  concern- 
ing the  preparation  and  objects  of  the  pageant.  The 
publicity  committee  should  begin  their  work  from  the 
inception  of  the  pageant  idea. 

On  the  practical  side  of  the  work  a  few  suggestions  may 
be  of  value.  As  far  as  expenses  are  concerned,  the  chair- 
man will  submit  his  estimates  to  the  finance  committee. 
The  items  are:  paid  newspaper  advertising;  posters  and 
handbills;  photographs  and  cuts;  and  educational  lectures 


266       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

on  pageantry.  The  material  which  falls  more  directly 
under  news  items  are  descriptive  stories  of  the  prepara- 
tions, outlines  of  the  historical  episodes,  descriptions  of 
pageants  in  other  cities,  an  acccount  of  the  pageant  di- 
rector's former  work,  and  so  on.  Old  legends  of  the  city  or 
of  the  locahty  may  furnish  interesting  newspaper  stories. 
The  music,  the  dances,  —  all  details  as  they  are  decided 
upon,  are  news.  Lists  of  committees  and  of  patronesses, 
names  of  business  men,  and  of  the  cast  are  sources  of 
pubKcity.  The  pubKc  should  be  made  famiUar  with  the 
whole  story  of  the  pageant  as  far  in  advance  as  possible. 
This  again  the  newspapers  will  usually  accept  as  news.  In 
fact,  the  amount  of  actual  paid  advertising  in  the  newspapers 
needs  only  to  be  sufficient  to  secure  their  active  support. 

What  is  most  often  neglected  is  pubhcity  work  in 
neighboring  towns.  One  of  the  best  methods  is  to  have 
certain  of  the  episodes  represented  by  other  locahties. 
When  this  is  done  the  pageant  becomes  local  news  for 
those  towns  as  well.  Railroad  and  trolley  companies 
should  be  consulted  about  special  fares  and  extra  trans- 
portation on  pageant  days,  and  in  this  way  these  com- 
panies will  add  their  pubhcity  to  the  sum  total.  Suc- 
cessful pubhcity  depends,  in  other  words,  upon  an  energetic 
and  systematic  pohcy  covering  all  the  possible  aspects 
of  the  pageant  as  they  affect  the  particular  community. 

For  outdoor  pageantry,  the  selection  of  the  grounds 
should  be  made  with  care.  The  pageant  director  serves 
as  chairman  of  the  grounds  committee,  since  his  advice 
on  the  suitabihty  of  the  location  as  a  stage  is  final.  The 
ideal  pageant  ground  is  one  with  a  distant  view  of  the 


ORGANIZATION  267 


town  as  the  background  of  the  far  perspective.  At  St. 
Albans  the  foreground  was  a  meadow  on  the  site  of  the 
old  Roman  city  of  Verulamium,  with  the  town  itself 
perched  upon  a  hill  about  a  mile  away.  The  central 
point  of  the  skyline  was  the  Norman  abbey,  about  which 
the  houses  clustered,  —  a  view  that  had  changed  but  httle 
during  all  the  centuries  whose  episodes  unrolled  themselves 
in  the  meadow  below.  So  fortunate  a  ground  is  not  often 
found.  If  no  stage  with  a  view  of  the  city  is  obtainable, 
let  one  be  chosen  that  is  at  least  characteristic  of  the 
locahty.  A  familiar  landscape  or  a  spot  famous  in  local 
legend  or  history  is  appropriate.  The  indifferent  pageant 
ground  is  a  situation  which  is  merely  beautiful,  such  as 
the  formal  grounds  of  a  large  estate.  This  has  no  value 
as  a  stage  for  historic  scenes,  however  beautiful  it  may 
be,  for  its  associations  are  too  personal;  it  is  characteristic 
neither  of  the  town  nor  of  the  natural  country. 

On  the  more  practical  aspects  of  the  grounds,  the  pa- 
geant master  decides  concerning  the  possibihties  of  the 
stage.  Other  things  are;  accessibihty  for  the  pubhc,  the 
acoustics,  and  the  rent.  The  grounds  must  be  within  at 
least  easy  trolley  reach,  but  not  too  near  the  transporta- 
tion lines  or  the  noise  will  interfere  with  the  performance. 
For  a  like  reason  the  parking  space  for  automobiles  and 
travelled  roads  must  not  be  too  close  to  the  stage.  The 
acoustics  of  different  localities  vary  to  such  a  degree  that 
actual  experiment  is  necessary.  A  hilly  background,  or 
water  in  the  middle  or  foreground,  helps  the  sound  to 
carry.  As  a  further  precaution  the  grandstand  should  be 
placed  on  the  side  facing  the  prevailing  winds.     Last  of 


268       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

all,  the  question  of  rent  is  limited  by  the  appropriation 
made  by  the  finance  committee;  but  it  is  often  possible 
to  secure  the  use  of  the  grounds  rent-free,  provided  an 
agreement  is  made  to  restore  them  to  their  original  con- 
dition after  the  production. 

The  provision  of  a  grandstand  and  the  arrangements 
for  the  comfort  of  the  audience  are  likewise  within  the 
province  of  the  grounds  committee.  In  theory,  a  natural 
amphitheatre  with  the  audience  seated  about  a  sloping, 
grassy  bank  is  best.^  Unfortunately  such  conditions  are 
rare,  particularly  as  accessibility  of  the  grounds  is  really 
the  principal  factor.  To  build  a  grandstand  for  a  large 
audience  is  easily  the  most  costly  item  of  the  whole 
pageant.  It  should  be  done  only  when  there  is  reasonable 
assurance  that  the  stands  will  be  filled.  Circus  seats 
which  are  quickly  set  up  and  taken  down  can  be  hired 
and  in  the  majority  of  cases  offer  the  best  solution  from 
the  financial  standpoint.  The  total  seating  capacity, 
relative  to  the  expected  gate  receipts,  must  be  carefully 
determined.  Aisles  should  be  made  broad  and  the  indi- 
vidual seating  area  wide.  The  audience  must  be  comfort- 
able, and  no  consideration  of  making  an  extra  profit  should 
be  allowed  to  crowd  and  huddle  them  together  unneces- 
sarily. All  seats  should  be  permanently  marked  with  their 
numbers  and  the  ushers  instructed  in  seating  people 
correctly.  Nor  should  the  audience  be  annoyed  by  pro- 
gram or  souvenir  sellers.  No  one  should  have  access  to 
the  grandstand  except  ushers  and  ticket  holders.  Refresh- 
ments, programs  and  the  like  should  be  on  sale  at  the  en- 

1  See  the  illustration  of  The  Dell  Theatre  at  the  HiU  School. 


ORGANIZATION  269 


trance  in  stands  erected  for  the  purpose.  Once  the 
audience  are  seated  they  should  be  free  to  follow  the 
pageant  undisturbed.  In  front  of  the  grandstand  and 
boxes,  —  the  latter  simple  rope  enclosures  on  the  level 
ground,  —  there  should  be  a  broad  promenade  between 
the  seats  and  the  stage.  This  makes  the  rapid  and  com- 
fortable handling  of  the  crowd  much  easier. 

In  line  with  the  conveniences  of  the  grandstand  is  the 
provision  of  numerous  entrances  and  ticket  booths.  All 
of  these  are  essential  matters  of  forethought  and  system, 
for  nothing  marks  more  surely  an  amateur  production  than 
lack  of  system  and  confusion  in  handling  a  crowd.  A 
lesson  might  well  be  learned  from  the  ease  with  which 
crowds  are  managed  at  the  important  football  games  of 
our  colleges.  An  audience  which  have  to  fight  their  way 
in  £md  out,  and  to  sit  for  two  hours  or  more  in  physical 
discomfort  in  a  crowded  stand,  will  go  away  with  mixed 
feehngs  concerning  the  production  they  have  witnessed. 

The  grounds  conmiittee  will  also  provide  for  pohce  and 
fire  protection.  An  adequate  pohce  force,  particularly 
if  a  section  of  the  seats  are  free,  is  essential.  Again, 
wooden  stands,  either  indoors  or  out,  are  a  dangerous 
fire  risk.  Extinguishers  —  a  hberal  number  of  them  — 
must  be  at  hand,  and  the  stands  must  be  constantly 
patrolled.  In  the  open  air,  cigarettes  and  matches  need 
careful  watching.  The  aisles  must  be  kept  clear  and 
waste  paper  gathered  up.  Last  of  all,  the  grounds  com- 
mittee will  arrange  for  a  hospital  tent  with  doctor  and 
nurse  and  an  ambulance.  In  all  crowds  of  any  size  it 
is  necessary  to  be  ready  for  any  emergency. 


270        COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

The  pageant  master  associates  with  himself  a  number 
of  production  committees  to  assist  him  in  looking  after 
the  multiple  details  which  no  one  person  could  find  time 
to  attend  to.  The  first  of  these  is  the  book  committee. 
Its  task  is  to  help  in  collecting  the  historical  data  and 
presenting  it  in  shape  to  use.  Sometimes  it  is  customary 
to  appoint  with  it  a  historical  censor  who  checks  and 
vouches  for  the  accuracy  of  the  material.  This  person 
should  be  one  who  has  specialized  in  the  history  of  the 
town.  His  advice  will  not  always  be  valuable  from  a 
dramatic  point  of  view,  but  his  assistance  in  gathering 
facts  is  almost  indispensable.  The  book  committee 
compiles  the  facts  for  the  story  of  the  pageant;  after  the 
text  has  been  outlined,  sees  to  its  distribution  to  the  pub- 
hcity  committee;  and  prepares  the  program.  In  rare  cases 
it  collaborates  on  the  actual  writing  of  the  text,  although 
usually  it  is  better  to  have  one  person,  preferably  the 
pageant  director,  alone  responsible  for  this. 

The  cast  committee  is  the  second  of  the  production 
committees.  To  it  is  entrusted  the  work  of  finding  actors 
for  the  episodes  and  the  determining  of  methods  for 
choosing  the  principals.  Each  episode  should  be  organized 
as  a  separate  group,  with  a  leader  who  does  not  play  a 
part  ki  the  pageant.  The  actors  may  be  chosen  in  two 
ways:  the  cast  committee  may  persuade  certain  clubs 
or  associations  to  take  entire  episodes  and  assume  all 
responsibihty  for  providing  actors,  or  it  may  make  a 
pubhc  announcement  calling  upon  all  interested  in  trying 
for  a  part  to  send  in  their  names.  The  candidates  can 
then  meet  at  designated  places  and  try  for  parts  on  a 


ORGANIZATION  271 


competitive  basis.  Although  this  is  the  more  democratic 
way  of  fiUing  a  cast,  it  is  not  always  certain  to  provide 
enough  volunteers.  Many  people  are  frightened  away 
by  the  idea  of  a  competition. 

The  rehearsal  conunittee  works  in  close  touch  with  the 
cast  committee.  Its  duties  are  to  arrange  a  schedule  of 
rehearsals,  with  dates  and  times,  and  to  see  that  all 
groups  receive  a  copy  of  the  schedule.  It  must  also  pro- 
vide a  place  for  the  rehearsals  and  a  piano  and  musician, 
if  these  are  needed.  It  will  keep  a  record  of  the  attendance 
and  have  general  oversight  of  the  progress  of  the  produc- 
tion. The  members  of  this  conmiittee  should  be  preferably 
chosen  from  among  those  who  have  had  some  experience 
in  amateur  dramatics,  as  they  can  then  reheve  the  director 
of  part  of  his  work  by  occasionally  conducting  a  portion 
of  the  rehearsals. 

The  music  committee  assists  the  music  director  in  any- 
thing that  may  be  required  of  it.  Its  members  copy 
music,  help  in  collecting  the  orchestra,  oversee  the  erection 
of  the  music  stand,  and  make  themselves  generally  useful. 
If  folk  and  dance  music  of  a  particular  period  is  desired, 
they  assist  in  the  research  work.  In  short,  this  committee 
bears  the  same  relation  to  the  music  director  that  the  book 
committee  does  to  the  pageant  master. 

In  a  similar  way  the  members  of  the  dance  committee 
are  at  the  disposal  of  the  dance  director.  They  make  a 
special  canvass  of  the  town  for  people  who  have  had 
experience  in  dancing,  and  arrange  for  any  competitions 
for  choosing  dancers.  The  study  of  folk-dance  steps  is 
also  in  their  field. 


272       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

One  of  the  important  parts  of  the  organization  is  the 
art  committee.  Its  members  prepare  plans  for  the  decora- 
tion of  the  town  during  the  pageant  performances,  for  the 
decoration  of  the  hall,  if  indoors,  or  of  the  gromids,  if 
outdoors,  and  have  charge  of  the  competitions  for  posters 
and  program  cover  designs.  They  also  assist  in  planning 
the  general  color  scheme  of  the  pageant  and  exercise  a 
general  advisory  censorship  over  the  costume  designs,  prop- 
erties, and  the  entire  artistic  side  of  the  pageant.  As  in 
the  case  of  the  other  conmiittees,  however,  they  provide 
suggestions  and  look  after  administrative  duties,  rather 
than  exercise  an  executive  capacity.  The  pageant  master's 
decision  must  always  be  imderstood  to  supersede  any 
reconmiendation  from  his  committees  when,  in  his  opinion, 
it  is  necessary  to  go  contrary  to  their  advice. 

The  costume  committee  is  a  large  group  containing 
people  of  varied  talents.  The  historical  costumes  require 
exacting  study  and  research,  which  must  be  divided  up 
according  to  periods.  A  full  list  of  the  characters  and 
supernumeraries  in  each  episode  is  made,  and  then  follows 
the  process  of  ascertaining  the  type  of  costume  needed  for 
each  individual.  The  costumes  for  the  interludes  are 
designed  by  another  group  in  the  committee,  as  the 
research  members  will  have  all  the  work  they  can  attend 
to  in  selecting  historical  costumes.  It  is  necessary  to  have 
two  or  three  people  who  have  some  knowledge  of  design- 
ing, or  at  least  who  possess  skill  in  sketching  and  in  the 
use  of  water-colors.  The  interlude  costumes  allow  the 
fullest  play  of  the  designers'  imagination  and  color  sense. 
They  are  guided,  of  course,  by  the  color  scales  already 


ORGANIZATION  273 


drawn  up  either  by  the  pageant  director  or  the  art  com- 
mittee. The  ablest  people  available  are  assigned  to  the 
work  of  designing  these  interlude  costumes,  since  the  task 
involves  creative  skill.^  Another  important  group  are 
the  buyers.  They  must  know  a  good  deal  about  materials 
and  the  stores  where  the  best  terms  are  obtainable.  The 
buying  should  be  planned  on  a  comprehensive  scale  and 
not  be  done  piecemeal.  A  large  single  order  will  result 
in  a  considerable  reduction  in  the  total  cost  of  the  ma- 
terials. This  same  group  may  also  look  after  the  details 
of  making  up  the  materials  after  they  are  purchased,  and 
attend  to  whatever  renting  of  costumes  may  be  necessary. 
In  a  large  pageant  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  professional 
dress-maker  in  charge  of  making  up  the  materials,  but  a 
number  of  volunteer  seamstresses  should  work  with  her. 
A  few  individuals  may  prefer  to  have  their  own  costumes 
made.  The  committee  will  then  see  that  they  are  made 
strictly  in  accordance  with  the  predetermined  design, 
and  that  no  alterations  are  introduced  into  the  design  on 
the  plea  that  it  would  be  "more  becoming"  if  changed. 
Each  costume,  as  it  is  completed,  should  be  tagged  with 
the  name  of  the  character,  the  name  of  the  individual  who 
is  to  wear  it,  and  the  number  of  the  episode  in  which  it 
is  to  be  worn.  It  is  then  turned  over  to  the  mistress  of 
the  wardrobe,  who  is  responsible  for  its  preservation.  She 
may  be  a  member  of  the  committee.  Costumes  are  easily 
soiled  or  crumpled  by  careless  handling,  so  it  is  necessary 
to  have  one  person  to  take  care  of  them.  When  the 
costumes  are  distributed  to  the  performers  the  list  should 

*  See  Chap.  VIII  on  Costumes  and  Setting. 


274       COMMUNITY  AND  DRAMA  PAGEANTRY 

again  be  checked,  in  order  that  the  wardrobe  mistress 
can  tell  at  a  glance  who  has  each  costume.  Instructions 
as  to  how  the  costumes  are  to  be  worn  are  given  by  the 
committee,  —  a  matter  which  must  not  be  overlooked 
when  there  are  groups  of  children  to  provide  for.  These 
instructions  include  such  details  as  the  color  of  shoes  and 
stockings,  if  these  are  not  furnished,  how  the  hair  is  to 
be  worn,  and  similar  matters.  After  the  costumes  have 
been  distributed  they  should  be  inspected  once  more  on 
the  day  of  the  dress  rehearsal.  This  is  necessary  in  order 
to  see  if  they  are  complete,  are  correctly  worn,  and  are  in 
perfect  condition.  Finally,  the  wardrobe  mistress  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  return  of  every  costume  after  each  per- 
formance, —  particularly  after  the  last  one.  Amateurs 
have  a  tendency  to  look  upon  a  costume  as  personal 
property,  or  to  be  careless  about  returning  it  promptly 
and  entire.  Rented  and  borrowed  costumes  naturally 
have  to  be  handled  by  a  business-like  system.  In  fact, 
any  lack  of  system  in  a  matter  which  involves  so  heavy 
a  part  of  the  expense  of  a  pageant  as  does  the  costuming 
will  result  in  a  surprising  increase  over  the  original  esti- 
mates. 

The  property  committee  is  in  reality  a  subdivision  of 
the  costume  committee,  since  many  properties,  such  as 
weapons,  are  integral  parts  of  the  costume.  But  the 
properties  are  usually  numerous  enough  to  need  separate 
supervision.  The  costume  committee  inform  the  property 
committee  how  many  individuals  there  are  to  carry  bows 
and  arrows,  spears,  guns,  artificial  flowers  and  the  like, 
and  the  property  committee  must  either  have  these  things 


ORGANIZATION  275 


made,  hired,  or  borrowed,  as  the  case  may  be.  The  ex- 
pense for  properties  must  be  rigidly  kept  down  by  the 
committee's  ingenuity  in  devising  ways  and  means  of 
providing  the  objects.  If  a  lump  order  for  properties  is 
given  to  a  theatrical  firm  the  cost  will  be  excessive.  Spears 
can  easily  be  made  by  boys  in  manual  training  schools, 
and  the  same  is  true  of  bows  and  arrows,  wooden  guns, 
shields,  and  swords.  All  of  these  things  may  be  of  wood, 
painted  or  silvered  with  aluminum  paint.  If  there  is  no 
manual  training  school,  the  local  carpenter  and  a  staff 
of  volunteers  will  answer  for  most  of  the  properties.  If 
guns  have  to  be  fired  in  battle  scenes,  wooden  dummies  will 
not  do,  and  real  guns  must  be  rented.  The  property  com- 
mittee are  also  responsible  for  the  accuracy  of  all  flags, 
standards,  banners,  and  heraldic  devices.  The  properties 
are  listed,  tagged,  and  looked  after  in  the  same  way  as 
the  costumes. 

For  large  productions  a  stage  management  committee 
can  be  of  great  assistance  to  the  director.  Its  members 
assist  in  preparing  the  stage  for  the  performance,  have 
charge  of  the  fighting  arrangements  for  night  performances, 
and  see  that  each  group,  during  the  production,  make 
their  entrance  punctually  on  their  cue.  A  member  should 
be  stationed  at  each  entrance  to  the  stage  with  two  or 
three  caU-boys  as  assistants.  These  entrances,  in  vast 
spectacles,  are  in  telephonic  communication  with  the  pa- 
geant director,  who  thus  can  transmit  his  orders  directly. 
But  the  committee  must  attend  rehearsals  until  they  are 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  production,  and  in  any 
emergency,  such  as  a  missed  cue,  will  know  what  ought 


276       COMMUNITY  DRAMA  AND  PAGEANTRY 

to  be  done.  They  are  likewise  responsible  for  discipline 
and  good  order  behind  the  scenes.  To  prevent  unneces- 
sary noise  and  confusion,  the  groups  are  kept  in  their 
dressing  tents  imtil  just  before  they  are  to  make  their 
entrance.  The  stage  management  committee  notify  the 
groups  by  the  call-boys  when  the  time  has  come.  It  will 
take  great  firmness  to  prevent  people  in  one  episode  from 
standing  in  the  wings  to  watch  what  others  are  doing. 
They  are  certain  to  betray  their  presence  to  the  audience 
and  to  block  the  wings  so  that  smooth  entrances  and  exits 
are  impossible.  It  is  advisable  to  have  the  stage  manage- 
ment committee  in  an  inconspicuous  costume,  so  that  they 
can  actually  go  on  to  the  stage  if  there  should  happen  to 
be  any  confusion  or  if  an  important  property  should  be 
forgotten.  Last  of  all,  when  the  stage  is  not  so  large  as 
to  make  prompting  useless,  a  member  of  the  committee 
acts  as  prompter. 

The  make-up  committee  completes  the  list  of  production 
committees.  As  has  already  been  said,  the  make-up  of 
the  principal  characters  is  placed  either  in  the  hands  of 
a  professional  or  of  a  person  with  experience  in  this 
difficult  matter.  In  open-air  performances  in  the  daytime 
very  httle  make-up  is  needed,  while  even  at  night  the 
heavy  make-up  of  a  stage  hghted  by  strong  foothghts  is 
to  be  avoided.  This  committee  sees  to  the  purchase  of 
the  cosmetics,  crepe-hair  and  spirit  giun,  to  providing 
cotton  batting,  cheese-cloth  towels,  regular  towels,  soap, 
mirrors,  washing  facihties,  and  all  the  items  required.  Its 
members  are  also  in  charge  of  hiring  and,  later,  of  dis- 
tributing the  wigs.     It  is  a  difficult  matter  to  make  a 


ORGANIZATION  277 


satisfactory  wig,  so  those  for  the  principal  characters,  at 
least,  must  be  rented.  The  committee  will  see  that  the 
dressing  tents  are  suppUed  with  sufficient  tables,  chairs, 
mirrors,  brushes  and  combs,  and,  at  night,  with  adequate 
hght.  All  these  things  must  be  provided  for  in  good  sea- 
son. Often  such  essential  details  are  left  to  the  last 
minute,  with  consequent  confusion  and  detriment  to  the 
production. 

In  regard  to  the  work  of  aU  the  committees,  the  pa- 
geant master  will  impress  upon  his  helpers  that  their 
tasks  are  not  ended  with  the  last  exit  of  the  performers. 
The  same  care  and  forethought  are  needed  to  wind  up  the 
affairs  of  a  pageant  organization  as  were  used  at  the 
beginning.  Costumes  and  properties  are  collected  and 
accounted  for,  the  grounds  restored,  the  grandstands 
taken  down,  and  the  financial  statement  completed.  All 
outstanding  accounts  must  be  gathered  together  promptly, 
petty  cash  balances  returned,  and  damages,  losses,  and 
similar  items  made  up  at  once  and  turned  in  to  the  treas- 
urer. Not  until  every  matter  has  been  satisfactorily 
attended  to  are  the  committees  discharged  from  their 
responsibilities.  Only  by  constant  forethought  and  system 
from  the  inception  of  the  pageant  to  the  payment  of  the 
last  dollar  can  the  pageant  be  made  a  success  on  the  side 
of  its  organization.  There  can  be  no  excuse  for  any 
management  which  is  not  conducted  on  this  basis. 


BIBLIOGRAPHIES 

The  bibliographies  to  the  veuious  chapters  aim  to  include  three  classes  of 
books:  sources,  secondary  and  scholarly  works  with  bibliographies,  and  practi- 
cal or  suggestive  works  likely  to  be  of  assistance  to  students  and  experimenters 
in  the  dramatic  fields  covered.  It  natiu^lly  follows  that  the  books  relating 
to  drsmia,  dramatic  criticism  and  the  dramatic  arts  are  Usted  more  numerously 
than  books  in  the  realm  of  music,  and  the  other  arts  allied  to  drama.  In  the 
same  way  the  scientific  or  anthropological  aspects  of  dramatic  evolution  are 
covered  by  a  Ust  of  only  a  few  of  the  better  known  books  in  this  field. 
But  it  is  hoped  that  on  the  side  of  acting,  stage  production,  tmd  the  theatric 
arts  in  general  this  bibUography  will  be  found  more  useful  and  vsuied  than  any 
at  present  available  in  one  volume.  In  no  one  field,  however,  does  the  bibli- 
ography pretend  to  be  complete  or  exhaustive.  The  idea  has  been  to  select 
those  books  of  more  or  less  permanent  value,  emd  as  far  as  possible,  to  confine 
the  selections  to  works  likely  to  be  found  in  the  larger  American  Ubraries, 
such  as  the  New  York  or  Boston  pubUc  libraries,  the  library  of  Congress,  or 
the  libraries  of  Yale,  Columbia,  and  Harvard.  For  the  convenience  of  those 
who  may  consult  these  pages,  magazine  tu-ticles  have  been  included  only  when 
there  was  no  other  source  covering  the  particular  field.  Unfortunately  the 
history  of  present-day  pageantry  has  to  be  sought  through  a  scattered  file  of 
periodicals  and  newspapers. 


BIBLIOGRAPHIES 

SELECTED  LIST  OF  BOOKS  ON  DRAMA,  PAGEANT 
AND  FESTIVAL  ORIGINS 


For  Folk-lore  bibliography,  see  Courtney,  W.  P.:  A  Register 
of  National  Bibliography,  vol.  I,  iqoS;  and  the  transactions 
and  publications  of  the  various  folk-lore  societies.  Anglia 
and  similar  publications  devoted  to  literary  scholarship  and 
philology  also  contain  scattered  material  on  festivals  and 
pageants. 

Grose,  F.,  and  Astle,  T.:  The  Antiquarian  Repertory.  A  miscel- 
laneous assemblage  of  topography,  history,  biography,  cus- 
toms, and  manners.      2d.  ed.,  4  vols.     London,  1807. 

Arnolx):  The  Customs  of  London,  otherwise  Arnold's  Chronicle. 
Edited  by  F.  Douce,  181 1. 

Laneham,  Robert:  Letter  describing  the  magnificent  pageants 
presented  before  Queen  Elizabeth  at  Kenilworth  Castle  in  1575. 
R'p't'd.    London,  182 1. 

Malone,  E.:  Historical  Account  of  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  tlie 
English  Stage.  London,  1821.  In  vol.  Ill  of  his  edition  of 
Shakespeare's  plays. 

Hone,  W. :  Ancient  Mysteries  Described.     1828. 

A  standard  work.     Includes,  also,  descriptions  of  the  Festivals  of  Fools 
and  Ix)rd  Mayors*  Shows. 

Nichols,  J.:  Progress  and  Public  Processions  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 
2d  ed.    3  vols.     1823. 


282  BIBLIOGRAPHY  I 

Sharp,  T.  :  A  Dissertation  on  the  Pageants  or  Dramatic  Mysteries, 

anciently  performed   at    Coventry.      Coventry,    iSaB.     With 

plates  and  music. 

A  standard  work.  Contains  a  lot  of  miscellaneous  information  on 
mediaeval  stage  details  £md  municipal  festiveds. 

Nichols,  J.:  Progresses,  Processions^  and  Festivities  of  James  I, 
his  Court,  etc.    4  vols.     1828. 
The  books  by  Nichols  contain  a  vast  fund  of  interesting  information. 

RuGGiERi,  Claude:  Precis  historique  sur  les  fetes,  les  spectacles 

et  les  rejouissances  publiques.     Paris,  i83o. 

Nichols,  J.:  London  Pageants.    1887. 

A  list  of  London  pageants  will  also  be  found  in  the  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine, vol.  94,  pt.  II,  pp.  ii3,  4ii  and  5i4. 

Sandys,  W.:    Christmastide,  its  History,  Festivities,  and  Carols. 
London,  n.  d.  [circa  i833?|]. 

Strutt,  J.:  The  Sports  and  Pastimes  of  the  People  of  England: 
including  the  rural  and  domestic  recreations.  May  games, 
mummeries,  shows,  processions,  pageants,  and  pompous  spec- 
tacles, from  the  earliest  period  to  the  present  time.  New  ed. 
by  W.  Hone.  i833. 
To  be  freely  consulted  for  the  subjects  listed  by  the  title-page. 

Hone,  W.  :  The  Every-day  Book  and  Table  Book.    3  vols.    i838. 
Douce,  F.:  Illustrations  of  Shakespeare,  and  of  Ancient  Manners: 

with  Dissertations  on  the  Clowns  and  Fools  of  Shakespeare, 

and  on  the  English  Morris  Dance.    1839. 

A  standeutl  work. 

Fairholt,  F.  W.  :  Lord  Mayor's  Pageants.   2  vols.    1 843-4-  Percy 
Soc.  Publ. 
Contains  descriptions,  synopses,  texts,  and  notes. 

Biblioth^ue  dramatique  deM.de  Soleinne.    Paris,  i844- 

Vol.  5,  pp.   17-63,  contains  a  remarkable  list  of  books  on  "  Ffetes, 
Pompes  et  Solemnites  Publiques." 

Giles,  J.  A.:  History  of  the  Ancient  Britons  [especially  from  B.C. 
55  to  A.D.  449D-    2  vols.    London,  1847. 


ORIGINS  283 

Merryweather,  F.  S.:   Glimmerings  in  the  Dark,  or  Lights  and 

Shadows  of  the  Olden  Time.    London,  i85o. 
ViOLLET-LE-Duc,   E.   L.   N.:    Ancien    Theatre  frangois:    depuis 

les  Mysteres  jusqu'a  Corneille.    lo  vols.    1 854-7- 

An  important  and  valuable  list  of  mysteries,  spectacles,  masques,  and 
plays. 

Bell,  R.:  Ancient  Poems,  Ballads,  and  Songs  of  the  Peasantry  of 

England.      1867. 
DoRAN,  John:  A  History  of  Court  Fools.    London,  i858. 
Klein,  J.  L.:  Geschichte  des  Dramas.     1 3  vols.     1865-76. 

Has  been  superseded  by  Creizenach,  q.  v. 

Kelly,  W.:  Notices  Illustrative  of  the  Drama  and  other  Popular 
Amusements,  chiefly  in  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth  Centuries. 
London,  1864. 

Ejctracted  from  the  Chamberlain's  accounts  and  other  mss.  of  the  Borough 
of  Leicester. 

Brand,  J.:    Observations  on  Popular  Antiquities.    Edited  with 
additions  by  W.  C.  Hazlitt.    3  vols.     1870.    Vol.  I,   The 
Calendar;  vol.  II,  Customs  and  Ceremonies;  vol.  Ill,  Super- 
stitions,   [ist.  ed.  3  vols.  1841-2.3 
Of  equal  value  with  Strutt  and  Douce. 

Halliwell-Phillipps,  J.  0.:  A  Collection  of  Ancient  Documents 
respecting  the  Office  of  Master  of  the  Revels,  and  other  Papers 
relating  to  the  Early  English  Theatre.     London,  1870. 

Lacroix,  Paul:  Mceurs,  usages  et  costumes  au  Moyen-dge  et 
a  Vepoque  de  la  Renaissance.     Paris,  1873. 

Mannhardt,  W. :  Wald- und  Feld-Kulte.    2  vols.    Berlin,  1875-77. 

Dyer,  T.  F.  Thiselton:  English  Popular  Customs,  Present  and 
Past.     1876. 

Percy,  Thomas:   Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry.     EM.  H.  B. 

Wheatley,  3  vols.     1876.     Another  ed,  Everyman's  Library. 

Professor  Child's  collection  of  Imllads  is  complete  and  scholarly  —  this 
popular  and  accessible. 

Skene,  W.  F.  :   Celtic  Scotland.     3  vols.     Exlinburgh,  1876-80. 
A  valuable  work. 


284  BIBLIOGRAPHY  I 

Collier,  John  Payne:  The  History  of  English  Dramatic  Poetry 
to  the  Time  of  Shakespeare;  and  Annals  of  the  Stage  to  the 
Restoration.    3  vols.     1879. 

Dyer,  T.  F.  Thiselton:  English  Folk-Lore.    2d  ed.,  1880. 

Useful.     Populsir  handbook. 

Harland,  J.,  and  Wilkinson,  T.  T.:  Lancashire  Legends,  Tradi- 
tions, Pageants,  Sports.  With  an  appendix  on  Lancashire 
witches.     1882. 

de  Julleville,  L.  Petit:  Histoire  du  Theatre  en  France  au  Moyen- 

age.     "Les  Mysteres,"  1880;   "  Les  Comediens  en  France  au 

Moyen-age,"  i885;  "La  Comedie et les Moeurs  en  France  au 

Moyen-age,"  1886. 

The  standard  reference  work  for  France.     Descriptions  of  mediaeval 
staging  and  festivals. 

Grimm,  J.:    Teutonic  Mythology.    Transl.  from  the  4th  ed.  with 

notes  and  appendix  by  J.  S.  Stallybrass.     4  vols.     1880-8. 

JussERAND,  J.  J.:  Le  Theatre  en  Angleterre.     2d  ed.,  1881. 

Valuable.     Period  from  the  Conquest  to  the  inomediate  predecessors  of 
Shakespeare. 

Child,  F.  J.:   The  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads.     10  vols. 

1882^8. 

The  most  complete  and  scholarly  edition.   A  convenient  source  for  popu- 
lar tales  and  stories. 

ScARTH,  H.  M.:  Roman  Britain.    London,  n.  d.  [i883]]. 
A  good  popular  account. 

Newell,  W.  W.:  Games  and  Songs  of  American  Children.     i884. 
Rhys,  John:  Celtic  Britain.    London,  2d  ed.,  1884. 

A  good  brief  account. 

Stoddard,  F.  E.:    References  for  Students  of  Miracle  Plays  and 

Mysteries.     1887. 
Lowe,  R.  W.:    A  Bibliographical  Account  of  English  Dramatic 

Literature.    London,  1887. 
BoLTON,  H.  C:   The  Counting-out  Rhymes  of  Children,     il 


ORIGINS  285 


GoMME,  G.  L.:   The  Village  Community:   with  special  reference 
to  the  origin  and  form  of  its  survivals  in  Britain.     1890. 
Useful. 

Hartland,  E.  S.:    The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales.     An  inquiry  into 

fairy  mythology.     1 89 1 . 
Fleay,  F.  G.:  Biographical  Chronicle  of  the  English  Drama,  i55g- 

1642.     2  vols.    London,  1891. 
Ordish,  T.   F.:     English   Folk-drama.      1891-8.     In    Folk-lore, 

vols.  II  and  IV. 

See  this  for  accounts  of  mummers'  plays. 

Brunetiere,   F.:    U Evolution  des  Genres  dans  Vhisloire  de  la 

liiterature.    Paris,  1892. 
GuMMERE,  F.  B. :  Germanic  Origins;  a  study  in  primitive  culture. 

New  York,  1892. 

Valuable. 

Frazer,   J.    G.:     The   Golden   Bough.    3   vols.    London,    1890. 
Rev.  and  enlarged  1900.    3d  ed.,  10  vols.    London,  1907-13. 
The  chief  work  on  the  scientific  aspect  of  festival  and  dramatic  origins. 

NoRTHALL,  G.  F.:  English  Folk-rhymes.  A  collection  of  tradi- 
tional verses  relating  to  places  and  persons,  customs,  supersti- 
tions, etc.     1892. 

Bates,  K.  L.:   The  English  Religious  Drama.     1898. 
A  standard  work. 

Bapst,  G.:  Essai  sur  VHistoire  du  Theatre.     i8q3.     Illus. 
Interesting  for  its  account  of  French  staging  and  scenery. 

Creizenach,  W.:    Geschichte  des  neueren  Dramas.     1 893-1909. 

An  admirable  general  history  of  drama  and  its  development. 

Gomme,  Mrs.  A.  B.:   The  Traditional  Games  of  England,  Scotland, 
and   Ireland,  with  Tunes.     2    vols.     189/J-8.     In   part   I    of 
Dictionary  of  British  Folk-lore,  ed.  by  G.  L.  Gomme. 
Valuable. 

DiTCHFiELD,  P.  H.:  Old  English  Customs  Extant  at  the  Present 
Time.     1896. 

Useful. 


286  BIBLIOGRAPHY  I 

DoRPFELD,  W.,  and  Reisch,  E.  :  Das  Griechische  Theater.    Athens, 
1896. 
The  standard.     Some  of  the  conclusions  differ  from  those  of  Haigh. 

Haigh,  a.  E.:  The  Tragic  Drama  of  Vie  Greeks.    Oxford,  1896. 
One  of  the  most  convenient  reference  books. 

Manly,   J.   M.:    Specimens   oj  the  Pre-Shakespearean   Drama. 
3  vols.     1897. 

Contains  mummers'  and  sword-dance  plays,  early  religious  drama  and 
Tudor  interludes. 

WiNDLE,  B.  C.  A. :  Life  in  Early  Britain.    London,  1897. 
A  handbook  for  popular  use. 

Allen,  Grant:  The  Evolution  of  the  Idea  of  God.    An  inquiry  into 
the  origins  of  religion.     1897. 
A  popular  study. 

Bertrand,  Alexandre:  La  Religion  des  Gaulois;   les  Druides  et 
le  Druidisme.     Paris,  1897.     Ireland,  pp.  277-96. 

Cox,  M.  R.:  Introduction  to  Folk-lore.     2d  ed.,  1897. 
A  good  elementary  work. 

Feasey,  H.  J.:  Ancient  English  Holy  Week  Ceremonial.     1897. 
Green,  J.  R. :  The  Making  of  England,    [a.d.  4A9-829.J]    London. 

2  vols.    R'p't'd.  1897. 
GoMME,   G.  L.:    Christmas  Mummers.     1897.     In  Nature,  vol. 

LVII. 
Ha  YARD,  0.:  Les  Fetes  de  nos  peres.     Paris,  1898. 
Philpot,  Isaline:   The  Sacred  Tree;  or  the  Tree  in  Religion  and 

Myth.    London,  1897. 
Ordish,  T.  F.:    Shakespeare's  London.    A  study  of  London  in 

the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.     London,  1879.     Rev.  ed.  1904. 
Pollard,  A.  W. :  English  Miracle  Plays,  Moralities,  and  Interludes. 

3d.  ed.,  1898. 

A  standard  work. 

Dill,  S.  :    Roman  Society  in  the  last  Days  of  the  Western  Empire. 
London,   1898. 


ORIGINS  287 


MoMMSEN,  A.:    Feste  der  Stadt  Athen  im  Altherthum.     Leipzig, 

1898. 
Haigh,  a.  E.:  The  Attic  Theatre.     2d  ed.,  Oxford,  1898. 

Descriptions  of  the  stage  and  of  dramatic  performances. 

CoNYBEABE,  F.  C.i  The  History  of  Christmas.     1899.    In  Journal 

of  American  Theology,  vol.  III. 
Fowler,  W.  W.:   Roman  Festivals  of  the  Period  of  the  Republic. 

London,  1899.     lUus. 
TiLLE,  A.:    Yule  and  Christmas;    Their  Place  in  the  Germanic 

Year.     1899. 
Lang,  Andrew  :  Myth,  Ritual,  and  Religion.    2d  ed.  1899. 
Heywood,  W.  :  Our  Lady  of  August  and  the  Palio  of  Siena.    Siena, 

1899- 
Ward,  A.  W.:  History  of  English  Dramatic  Literature  to  the  Death 
of  Queen  Anne.     2d  ed.,  1899. 
The  chief  reference  work  for  the  history  of  English  drama. 

Lang,  Andrew:  The  Making  of  Religion.    2d  ed.  1900. 
Interesting  but  not  always  scientific. 

CusHMAN,  W.  L.:    The  Devil  and  the  Vice  in  English  Dramatic  Lit- 
erature before  Shakespeare.    1900.    "  In  Studien  zur  englischen 
PhUologie,"  VI. 
A  standfird  work. 

BouLTON,  W.  B. :  Amusements  of  Old  London.  Survey  of  the  Sports, 
Playhouses,  etc.,  from  the  17th  to  the  Beginning  of  the  19th 
Century,     2  vols.    London,  1900. 

Grogs,  K.:  The  Play  of  Man.    Transl.  E.  L.  Baldwin,  1901. 
To  be  read  with  Frazer's  "Golden  Bough." 

Jusserand,  J.:  Les  Sports  etjeux  d'exercice  dans  Vancienne  France. 

Paris,  1 90 1. 
Gummere,  F.  B.:   The  Beginnings  of  Poetry.     1901. 

To  be  read  with  Frazer's  "  Golden  Bough." 

Rhys,  J.:  Celtic  Folk-lore;  Welsh  and  Manx.     2  vols.     1901. 

Dependable. 


288  BIBLIOGRAPHY  I 

Drake,  A.  S.:  Book  of  New  England  Legends  and  Folk-lore.     1901. 

GrOMME,  G.  L.,  ed.:  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  Library.  Boston, 
n.  d.  See  vols,  entitled:  Popular  Superstitions;  English 
Traditional  Lore;  Mummers  and  Customs;  Dialects,  Proverbs 
and  Word-lore. 

ScHELLiNG,  F.  E.:  The  English  Chronicle  Play.    New  York,  1902. 

Very  useful.     Table  of  extant  plays  on  subjects  partly  or  wholly  from 
Ekiglish  history. 

Dawson,  W.  F.:  Christmas.    Its  Origin  and  Associations.     1902. 

The  best  of  the  popular  books  on  Christmas.    Describes  ig  centuries  of 
customs. 

Vaux,  J.  E.:  Church  Folk-lore.    2d  ed.     1902. 

Greg,  W.  W.  :  A  List  of  Masques,  Pageants,  etc.    Supplementary 

to  a  list  of  English  plays.    London,  1902.     Printed  for  the 

Bibliographical  Society. 

Chambers,  E.  K.;    The  Mediaeval  Stage.    2  vols.    Oxford,  1903. 

This  book  is  indispenstible  to  all  students  of  ElngUsh  festival  origins. 
Prefixed  to  vol.  I  is  a  detailed  bibliography. 

Einstein,   Lewis:   The  Italian  Renaissance   in  England.    New 
York,  1903. 
Excellent  account  of  Italian  influence  on  drama. 

Gayley,  C.  M.:  Representative  English  Comedies.  3  vols.  i9o3- 
1914. 

The  introduction  on  the  growth  of  comedy  is  excellent. 

Heywood,  W.:    Palio  and  Ponte.    An  account  of  the  sports  of 
central  Italy  from  the  age  of  Dante  to  the  20th  centmy. 
London,  1904. 
Interesting  accoimt  of  mediaeval  festivals  and  their  modem  survival. 

Le  Braz,  a.:    The  Land  of  Pardons.     Transl.  F.  M.  Gostling. 

Illus.     London,  1906. 
NiLSSON,  Martin:  Griechische  Feste  von  religioser  Bedeutung,  mit 

Ausschluss  der  attischen.     Leipzig,  1906. 


ORIGINS  289 


Laneham,  R.:    Robert  Laneharri's  Letter  describing  a  part  of  the 
entertainment  unto  Queen  Elizabeth  at  the  Cattle  of  Kenilworth 
in   1575.     Ed.   F.   J.   Fumivall,   Shake.  Library,    1907. 
Reprinted  from  ed.  of  1821. 
The  source  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  description  in  "Kenilworth." 

Curtis,  N.  :  The  Indians'  Book.    An  offering  of  American  Indians 
of  Indian  lore,  musical  and  narrative.     New  York,  1907. 
Useful  material. 

TuNisoN,  J.  S.:  Dramatic  Traditions  of  the  Dark  Ages.     1907. 
A  specialist's  book. 

Anon.:    The  Pageants  of  Richard  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick. 

Oxford,  1908.    The  Roxburghe  Club. 
Stow:    Survey  of  London.      Exi.  by  C.  L.  Kingsford.      a  vols. 

Oxford,  1908. 

Accounts  of  pageants  and  triumphs  in  pre-Elizabethan  London. 

Harrison:    Description  of  England.    Part  IV.    Ed.  by  F.  J. 
Fumivall,  with  additions  by  Mrs.  C.  C.  Stopes.     1908. 

Contains  interesting  matter  bearing  on  English  life  and  customs  at  the 
close  of  the  i6th  and  beginning  of  the  17th  centuries. 

Sc3iELLiNG,  F.  E.:  Elizabethan  Drama,  1558-16U2.     2  vols.     1908. 
An  excellent  general  account. 

KiJCK,  E.,  and  Sohnrey,  H.:  Fesle  und  Spiele  des  deutschen  Land- 

volks.    Berlin,  1909. 
Thomas,  W.  I.:  A  Source  Book  for  Social  Origins.     Chicago,  1909. 

Full  bibliographies. 

Gayley,  cm.:  Plays  of  our  Forefathers,  and  some  of  the  traditions 
on  which  they  were  founded.     New  York,  1909. 
All  of  Gay  ley's  books  are  excellent. 

RiDGEWAY,  WiLU AM :  The  Origin  of  Tragedy  with  Special  Reference 
to  the  Greek  Tragedians.     Cambridge,  19 10.     Illus. 

Gray,  J.  H.:    The  Roman  Theatre.     London,  1910. 
A  good  description. 

Lawson,  J.  C:  Greek  Folk-lore  and  Religion.     London,  1910. 


290  BIBLIOGRAPHY  II 

Short,  Josephine  H.:   Oberammergau.    New  York,  igio. 

A  description  of  village,  performers,  and  performances  of  1900  and  1910. 

Brooke,  C.  F.  T.:   The  Tudor  Drama.    Boston,  191 1. 
Spencer,  M.  L.:  Corpus  Chrisli  Pageants  in  England.    New  York, 

1911. 
Jaggard,    William:     Shakespeare    Bibliography.    Stratford-on- 

Avon,  1912. 

List  of  books  relating  to  all  aspects  of  the  ShedLespearean  drama. 

Harrison,  Jane:  Ancient  Art  and  Ritual.    New  York,  igiS. 
An  excellent  little  book. 

CoRNFORD,  F.  M.:  The  Origin  of  Attic  Comedy.    London,  1914. 

Bibliography.     Synopses  of  extant  plays. 

Nettleton,  G.  H.  :  English  Drama  of  the  Restoration  and  Eighteenth 

Century,  16/12-1780.    New  York,  igi/i. 
Havemeyer,  Loomis  :  The  Drama  of  Savage  Peoples.    New  Haven, 

Conn.,  1916. 

Contains  much  materied  not  readily  accessible  elsewhere.    Bibliography. 

II 

RECENT  BOOKS  ON  PAGEANTRY 

Bates,  E.  W.  :  Pageants  and  Pageantry.    With  an  introduction  by 

William  Orr.     Boston,  n.  d.  [191  aj.     Bibliography. 
Chubb,  Percival,  and  Others:  Festivals  and  Plays  in  School  and 

Elsewhere.     191 2. 
Langdon,  W.  C.  ;   Suggestions  for  the  Celebration  of  the  Fourth  of 

July   by   Means   of  Pageantry.    Russell   Sage   Foundation, 

Recreation  Div.,  Pamphlet  No.  ii4, 1912. 
Craig,  A.  A.  T.:   The  Dramatic  Festival.    New  York,  191 2. 
Tanner,  Virginia:    The  Pageant  of  the  Little  Town  of  X.  igi^. 
Mackaye,  p.  W.:    The  Civic  Theatre.    New  York,  191 2. 
Needham,  Mrs.  Mary  M.:  Folk  Festivals.     Their  growth  and 

how  to  give  them.     New  York,  19 12. 


ARTICLES  FROM  PERIODICALS  ON  PAGEANTRY    291 

Mackaye,  p.  W,:    The  Playhouse  and  the  Play,  and  other   ad- 
dresses concerning  the  theater  and  democracy  in  America,  igiS. 
Davol,  R.:    Handbook  of  American  Pageantry.    Taunton,  Mass., 

igi^. 
WiTHiNGTON,  Robert:    A  Manual  of  Pageantry.     Bloomington, 

Indiana,  igiA- 
Dickinson,  Thomas  H.  :    The  Case  of  American  Drama,  Boston, 

19x5. 

Contains  chapters  on  pageauntry. 

Hatcher,  O.  L.:    A  Book  for  Shakspeare  Plays  and  Pageants. 
New  York,  1916. 

Bulletins  of  the  American  Pageant  Association. 

These  appear  at  frequent  intervals  and  may  be  obtained,  upon 
request,  from  Mary  Porter  Beegle,  Secretary,  Barnard  College, 
New  York  City. 

Ill 

GENERAL  ARTICLES  FROM  PERIODICALS  ON 
PAGEANTRY 

Morris,  May;   Pageantry  and  the  Masque.    J.  Soc.  Arts.  50:70, 

IQOS. 

MiCHELSON,  A.  M.:    Two  Historic  Pageants.     Craftsman,  9:857, 

1905. 
Anon.:    English  Pageants.     Macmillan's,  92:/j25,  igoS. 
Anon.:     Place   of  Pageantry    in   National    Thought.     Spectator, 

92:81,  1905. 
Parker,  Louis  N.:  Historical  Pageants.  J.  Soc.  Arts,  54 :  i/|2,  1906. 
SiEVEKiNG,  I.  G.:  English  Pageants  of  the  Streets.    Antiquary,  n.s., 

42:^64,  1906. 
TuRNBULL,    G.:     English    Historical   Pageants.     World's    Work, 

16:9659-74,  Dec.  1907.  — 

Maxwell,  G.:   Revival  of  the  Folk-drama.     Nineteenth  Century, 

62:  925-34i  Dec.  1907. 


292  BIBLIOGRAPHY  III 

Mackaye,  Percy:  American  Pageants  and  their  Promise.    Scrib- 

ner's,  ^6:  28-34,  July,  1909. 
Anon.:   A  Children s  Pageant.     Living  Age,  262:49-52,  July  3, 

1909. 
Anon.:  Pastoral  Players.    Theatre,  8:32o,  Dec.  1908. 
Roberts,  Mary  F.:    The  Value  of  Outdoor  Plays  to  America. 

Craftsman,   i6:49i-5o6,  Aug.   1909.      Westchester    County 

(N.  Y.)  historical  pageant  described. 
Bjorkman,  F.  M.:    A  Nation  Learning  to  Play.    A  summer  of 

patriotic  pageants.     World's  Work,  Sept.  1909. 
Anon.:    Outdoor  Plays.     Current   Literature.     47:3i2-5,  Sept. 

1909. 
Earle,  a.  M.:    Bath  and  its  Pageani.    Book  News,   28:92-5, 

Oct.  1909. 
Hard,  W.  :  Historical  Pageant  of  Illinois  as  given  at  Northwestern 

University.    Outlook,  9^:  182-90,  Jan,  22,  1910. 
Anon.:  Bryn  Mawr  May  Day  Revels.    Outlook,  95:  108-12,  May 

21,  1910. 
Macslaye,  H.  :  Outdoor  Plays  and  Pageants;  a  sketch  of  the  move- 
ment   in    America.     Independent,    68:    1227-34,     June   2, 

1910. 
Oberholtzer,  E.  p.  :  Historical  Pageants  in  England  and  America. 

Century,  48:  416-27,  July,  1910. 
Chuds,  Harriet  L.:    Old  Deerfield  Historical  Pageant.     Survey, 

24:  66i-3,  Aug.  1910. 
Anon.:  Peterborough,  N.  H.,  Memorial  Pageant,  Aug.  1910.    Book- 
man, 32:  116,  Oct.  1910. 
Anon.:     Drama   in  the  Open.      Current  Literature,   49:201-4, 

Aug.  1910. 
White,  Eva  W.:  Pantomime  in  a  Neighborhood  Park.     Survey, 

24: 660-1,  Aug.  6,  1910. 
Anon.:   The  Masque  of  Arcadia.    Detroit,  Mich.    Handicraft,  3: 

202-11,  Sept.  1910. 
Anon.:    Pageant  of  the  British  Army  at  Fulham  Palace.    World 

To-day,  19:  996-9,  Sept.  1910. 


ARTICLES  FROM  PERIODICALS  ON  PAGEANTRY    293 

Anon.:  Pageants.    Academy,  79:  ^Q^-S,  Nov.  19,  1910. 
Brown,  F.  C:  First  American  Civic  Pageant  —  "Cave  life  to  city 

life."    Boston.    Theatre,  i3: 43-5,  IX.     Feb.    191 1. 
Mackaye,  Hazel:   Peterborough,  N.  H.,  Pageant.    Drama,  No. 

i:  336-47,  Feb.  191 1. 
Anon.:  Shakespeare  Festival,  Stratford-on-Avon.     Windsor  Mag. 

33:727-44-     May,  1911. 
Green,  A.:    The  Festival  of  Empire.    London.    Windsor  Mag. 

34:  100-8,  June,  191 1. 
Brewster,  Mary  K.:   The  Northampton  Pageant.    N.  Y.  Dram. 

65:  8-9,  June  i4,  1911. 
Anon.:     Pageant    of   Spring.     Detroit,  Mich.     Handicraft,    4: 

119-23,  July,  191 1. 
Wayne,  F.  :    The  Taunton  Pageant.    National  Mag.  34 :  735-8. 

Sept.  191 1. 
Holt,  Constance:    Woodstock,  Conn.,  Pageant.     Independent,  7: 

5i8-22,  Sept.  7,  191 1. 
DuMONT,  H.:   Carmel,  Cal,  Pageant.    National  Mag.  35:  i5i-6, 

Oct.  191 1. 
Lord,  Katherine:   Thetford,  Vt.,  Pageant.    Sub.  Life,  i3: 263-5, 

Nov.  191 1. 
Lees,   Dorothy   N.:    The   "sacre  rappreseniazioni"  of  Florence 

(Mediaeval.)     Mask,  4:  219-49,  Jan.  1912. 
Beard,  Adelia  B.:   The  American  Pageant.    Am.  Homes,  9: 239- 

4i,  July,  1912. 
Davol,  R.  :  The  Pageant  as  a  Popular  Form  of  Holiday  Celebration. 

New  Eng.  Magazine,  n.  s.,  48:  342-5,  Sept.  19 12. 
Field,  B.  :  Gamut  Club's  Sylvan  Gambol.     Los  Angeles.     Overland, 

n.  s.,  60:  289-94,  Sept.  1912. 
Anon.:    Modern  Pageants  Not  Spontaneous.     Nation,  95:  245-6, 

Sept.  12,  1912. 
Harrington,  Helen:    Poetic  Drama  and  Pageantry.    Overland, 

n.  s.,  60:  409-18,  Nov.  1912. 
Langdon,  W.  C:    The  Philadelphia  Historical  Pageant.     Survey, 

29:  2i5-i8,  Nov.  23,  1912. 


294  BIBLIOGRAPHY  III 

Baker,  G.  P.:   American  Pageantry  and  Its  Proper  Development. 

Art  and  Progress,  4:  83i-5,  Jan.  igiS. 
Stuart,  E.  R.  :  Newer  Aspects  of  Pageantry.    New  Eng.  Magazine, 

48:  54o-3,  Jan.  igiS. 
Brown,  F.  C:    The  American  Pageant  Association.     Drama,  No. 

g:  178-88,  Feb.  igiS. 
Anon.  :  Selective  List  of  Books  on  Pageants.   Drama,  No.  10 :  238-/1 1 , 

May,  1913. 
Anon.  :   The  Pageant  as  a  Form  of  Propaganda.    Current  Opinion, 

55:  32,  July,  i9i3. 
HiRSCH,  S.  M.:  The  Pageant  Drama  Revived.    Review  of  Reviews, 

48:  328-33,  Sept.  19 13. 
Wade,  H.  T.:  What  the  Pageant  does  for  Local  History.    Review  of 

Reviews,  48:  328-33,  Sept.  i9i3. 
Branford,  V. :  Modern  Pageants  and  the  Greek  Theatre.     Forum, 

5i:  217-31,  Feb.  I9i4- 
Langdon,  W.  C.:   New  York  Conference  on  Pageantry.     Drama, 

No.  i4:  307-1 5,  May,  19 14. 
Anon.:   May  Day  Pageant  at  Bryn  Mawr.     Outlook,  107:  147-8, 

160,  May  23,  i9i4- 
Davol,  R.  :  Pageantry  as  a  Fine  Art.    Art  and  Progress,  5 :  299-3o3, 

June,  1914. 
Farwell,  a.  :  Community  Music  Drama.     Will  our  people  in  time 

help  us  to  develop  the  real  American  theater?     Craftsman, 

26: 418-24,  July,  191^- 
Dickinson,  T.  H.:    Rise  of  Pageants  and  their  Recent  History. 

Play  Book,  i:  3-3 1,  Sept.  19 14. 
Clark,  L.  A.:   Pageants  and  Local  History.    His.  Teach.  M.  5: 

287-8,  Nov.  1914. 
Naylor,  E.  H.  :  Christmas  Eve  in  the  City.    Am.  City,  1 1 :  442-7, 

Dec.  I9i4- 
El  Drama  de  la  Mision.    Bulletin  Pan-American  Union,  4o:  242-9, 

Feb.  191 5. 
Smith,  L.  R.:   Fairy  Tale  Pageant.      Musician,  20:  34 1-2,  May, 

1915. 


OPEN-AIR  THEATRES  295 

Anon.:    Lexington  Pageant.     New  Eng.  Mag.,  n.  s.,  53:38-4o, 

May,  19 1 5. 
Anon.:     Lexington's    Peace    Pageant.       Outlook,     iio:499-5oo, 

June  3o,  191 5. 
Craig,  A.  T. :   Poetic  Theme  in  the  Modern  Pageant.     Forum,  54 : 

349-55,  Sept.  19 1 5. 
Smith,  Mrs.  M.  P.:   Peace  Pageant.    Am.  City,  i3:  334-7,  Oct. 

16,  1915. 

IV 

OPEN-AIR  THEATRES 

BoissiER,  Gaston:   Ancient  Theatre  at  Orange.    Living  Age,  222: 

498-564,  1898. 
Anon.:  Revival  of  the  Open-air  Theatre.     Am.  Arch.  90:  61,  1906. 
RusTiN,   H.   H.:    Presenting   Outdoor  Plays.     House  Beautiful, 

24:  i3-i5,  June,  1908. 
Craig,  Gordon:  Open-air  Theatres.    Mask,  2:90-1,  Oct.  1909. 
Wachler,    E.  :     Die    Freilichtbiihne.    Betrachtungen    iiber    das 

Problem  des  Volkstheaters  unter  freien  Hiramel.    Berlin,  1909. 
Shepstone,  J.;    Theatre  in  Rock  Hewn  City  of  Petra.     Sci.  Am. 

102:  220,  Mar.  12,  1910. 
Anon.:     Copenhagen,   Denmark.      The    New  Open-air   Theatre. 

111.    Graphic,  23: 175,  July  3o,  19 10.    World's  Work  (London), 

16:  3i^i6,  Aug.  1910. 
Savits,    Jocza:     Das    Naturtheater.     Mit    besond.    Beriicksicht. 

der  Naturtheater  im  Thale  am  Harz  u.  in  Hertenstein  bei 

Luzern,  Munich,  1910. 
Anon.:    California  Grove  Plays  of  the  Bohemian  Club.     Drama, 

No.  i:  i3i-5,  F'eb.  19 11. 
Merington,  Marguerite:    Village  Players:  and  et^ry  community 

producing  its  own  plays.     World's  Work  (I^ndon),  17:  254-6o, 

Feb.  1911. 
Stoll,  H.  F.:    Notable  Open-air  Tlieatres  in  America.    Theatre, 

i4:  18-22,  VI,  July,  191 1. 


296  BIBLIOGRAPHY  IV 

Edwardowttch,  E.;  Play  in  the  Open  air.    Mask,  4-'8-io,  July, 

IQII. 

BuDD,  Katherine  C:    Every  Lawn  a  Theatre.    World's  Work, 

22:  14927-89,  Oct.  191 1. 
Johnston,   W.  :    Oui-door  Plays    al   Skansen  [neai   Stockholm]. 

Theatre,  i5:  66,  Feb.  191 2. 
Hume,  S.:  Greek  Theatre;  its  use  and  abuse.    Sunset,  29: 199-206, 

July,  1912. 
Anon.:    A   Woodland  Theatre  at  Riverdale-on-Hudson.    Theatre, 

16:  9,  July,  1912. 
Anon.:    Bohemian  Club's  Plays  in  a  Redwood  Forest.    Theatre, 

16:  i48,  Nov.  1912. 
^Picture']:   Theaire  Made  of  Living  Trees,  near  Sottegem,  Belgium. 

Theatre,  16:  i58,  Nov.  1912. 
Williams,  M.:  The  Forest  Theatre  at  Carmel,  California.    Theatre, 

16:  i85,  Dec.  1912. 
Pierce,  Lucy  F.  :   Development  of  Out-door  Drama.    Drama,  No. 

11:  127-87,  August,  1918. 
Stoll,  H.  F.:  California  Mission  Theatre.    Theatre,  17:  i58.  May, 

1918. 
Anon.  :  The  Open-air  Theatre.    What  it  is,  its  social  aspects,  types, 

and  use.     Play  Book,  i:  1-82,  June,  1918. 
Weirter,  L.:   Open-air  Theatre  near  Prague.     Graphic,  88:  i56, 

July  26,  1918. 
Row,  A.:  Open-air  Theatres  in  America.     Harp.  W.  58:  21,  Oct.  4, 

1918. 
Hubbard,  H.  V.:    Italian  Garden   Theatres.    Landscape  Arch. 

4:  58-65,  Jan.  I9i4- 
Robertson,    R.:     Tuscan    Garden    Theatres.    Plans.    Arch.    Q. 

Harv.  2:  65-72,  Mar.  I9i4- 
Tabor,  Grace:    Making  a  Garden  Theaire.    House  and  G.  25: 

874-6,  899-408,  May,  1914. 
Anon.  :  Greek  Theatre,  Brookside,  Ml.  Kisco,  New  York.    Harper's 

Bazar,  49  ^  24-5,  Aug.  1914. 
Cheney,  S.:  Garden  Theatres.    Country  Life,  27: 48-5,  Mar.  I9i5. 


ENGLISH  MASQUES  297 

Gray,   E.  T.:    Forest    Theatre   at   Carmel-by-ihe-Sea,   Cat.     St. 

Nicholas  Mag.  42:  570-1,  April,  1916. 
Hackett,  F.:    Open-air  Performances.     New  Republic,  3:  iSa, 

June  13,  1915. 

V 

ENGLISH  MASQUES 

Kent,  William:  The  Designs  of  Inigo  Jones.    London,  1727. 
Cunningham,   P.:    A   Life  of  Inigo  Jones.    Shakespeare  Soc. 

London,  i848. 

Both  works  on  Inigo  Jones  are  valuable. 

SoERGEL,  A.:  Die  Englischen  Maskenspiele.     HaUe,  1882. 
Evans,  Herbert  Arthur  :  English  Masques.    London,  1898. 

An  account  of  their  origin,  a  list  of  the  extant  pubUshed  masques,  and 
several  specimen  texts  from  Samuel  Daniel  to  Sir  William  Davenant, 
covering  typical  examples.     The  best  work  in  EngUsh  on  this  subject. 

Brotanek,  Rudolf:  Die  Englischen  Maskenspiele.    Vienna,  1902. 

The  standeird  German  work. 

Castelain,  M.:  BenJonson:  V Homme  etVCEuvre.    Paris,  1907. 

Bibliography  and  account  of  Jonson's  masques. 

Reyher,  Paul:    Les  Masques  Anglais:    etude  sur  les  ballets  et 

la  vie  de  cour  en  Angleterre  (i5i2-i64o).     Paris,  1909. 

A  minute  and  acxjurate  work  containing  full  bibliograj^hies,  quotations 
from  sources,  outlines  and  lists  of  masques  and  ballets.  Exceedingly  valu- 
able for  the  practical  and  historical  study  of  these  types  of  dramatic  art. 

Lawrence,  W.  J.:    The  Elizabethan  Playhouse,  and  other  studies. 
Stratford-on-Avon.    1912. 

See  chapter  on  The  Mounting  of  Carolan  Masques.     The  whole  book 
is  worth  careful  study. 
For  PASTORAL  DRAMA  see  section  XXII. 

VI 

DRAMATIC  TECHNIQUE 

Lessing,  G.  E.  :   Hamburgische  Dramaturgie.     2  vols.,  Hamburg 
1767-68.     Am  ed.,  New  York,  1901. 
By  no  means  obsolete  in  its  general  critical  principles. 


298  BIBLIOGRAPHY  VI 

Bulwer-Lytton:      Laws    Affecting    Dramatic    Literature.       In 

Speeches,  vol.  V.,  i. 
Frenzel,  Karl:  Berliner  Dramaturgic.     2  vols.     Hanover,  1877. 
BuLTHAUPT,  Heevrich:   Dramaturgic  der   Classiker,  Oldenburg, 

2  vols.,  1882-3.     Vol.  i:    Lessing,  Goethe,  Schiller,  Kleist; 

vol.  2:  Shakespeare, 
Prolss,   R.:    Katechismus    der  Dramaturgic.      Leipzig,    2d    ed. 

1890.     [\sX.  ed.  1877] 

An  academic  point  of  view,  but  a  useful  book. 

Jerome,  Jerome  K.:  Playwriting.    London,  1888.    R'p't'd.  from 

The  Stage. 
Berger,  a.  von:  Dramaturgische  Vortrdge.     Vienna,  1890-1. 
Hennequin,  Alfred:    The  Art  of  Playwriting.     Boston,  1891. 

This  has  long  been  a  standard  book. 

Archer,  Frank:  How  to  Write  a  Good  Play.    London,  1892. 

Emphasis  on  mechanical  structure. 

Price,  W.  T.:  The  Technique  of  the  Drama,  New  York,  1892. 

BuLTHAUPT,  H. :  Dramaturgic  des  Schauspiels.  Oldenburg,  3  vols., 
1894-1905.  Vol.  i:  Lessing,  Goethe,  Schiller,  Kleist;  vols. 
2  and  3:  Grillparzer,  Hebbel,  and  others,  and  a  discussion 
of  the  development  of  German  dramatic  technique  down  to 
the  date  of  issue. 
A  scholarly  work.     Critical  viewpoint  interesting. 

Freytag,  Gustav:   The  Technique  of  the  Drama.     Transl.  from 
the  6th  German  ed.  by  Elias  J.  MacEwan.    Chicago,  1895. 
New  ed.  1908. 
For  a  long  time  the  standard  authority. 

PoLTi, Georges:  Lcs  Trentc-six  Situations Dramatiqucs.  Paris,  1895. 

An  attempt  to  classify  and  analyze  all  the  dramatic  situations. 

Meredith,   George:    An  Essay  on  Comedy,  and  the  Uses   of 
the  Comic  Spirit,  New  York,  1897. 
Indispensable. 

WooDHRiDGE,  ELIZABETH:    Thc  Drojua,  its  Law  and  Technique. 

Boston,  1898. 

Founded  on  academic  principles.     Useful. 


DRAMATIC  TECHNIQUE  299 

Wagner,  Richard:  Opera  and  Drama.    Am.  ed.,  New  York,  1898. 
Spielhagan,  Friedrich:   Neue  Beitrdge  zur  Theorie  und  Technik 

der  Epik  und  Dramatik.     In  vol.  XIV  of  Sdmmtliche  Werke^ 

Leipzig,  1898. 
Faguet,  E.  :  Drome  ancien;  drome  moderne.     Paris,  1898. 
AvoNiANUS  [pseud,  of  Dr.  Robert  Hessen]:    Dramaiische  Hand- 

werkslehre.    2d  ed.,  Berlin,  1902. 

One  of  the  best  and  most  stimulating  of  the  German  books. 

Matthews,   Brander:    The  Development  of  the  Drama.    New 
York,  1903. 
Repays  careful  study 

Harlan,  W.  :  Schule  des  Luslspiels.     Berlin,  igoS. 

Zabel,  E.:    Zur  Modernen  Dramalurgie,  Sludien  und  Kriliken. 

Leipzig,  1905.     2d  ed.     Orig.  ed.  1908. 
Lessevg,  Theodor:    Theater-Seele.     Studien  iiber  Buhnendsihetik 

und  Schauspielkunst.    Berlin,  1907. 

A  discussion  of  the  psychology  of  acting  and  audience,  as  well  as  a  forecast 
of  the  theater  of  the  future.     Stimulating. 

Savits,  Jocza:    Von  der  Absicht  des  Dramas.     Dramaturgische 
Betrachtgn.  iiber  die  Reform  der  Szene,  namentlich  im  Hin- 
blick   anf   die    Shakespearebiihne    in    Miinchen.     Munich, 
1908. 
Savits  is  one  of  the  leaders  in  the  new  movement  in  Germtmy. 

Vaughn,  C.  E.:   Types  of  Tragic  Drama.     New  York,  1908. 
Popular  criticism  and  analysis. 

Price,  W.  T.:   Analysis  of  Play  Construction  and  Dramatic  Prin- 
ciple.    New  York,  1908. 
Mainly  devoted  to  the  "well-made"  play. 

Thorndike,  Ashley  H.:    Tragedy.     New  York,  1908. 
An  excellent  book. 

ScHLAG,  Hermann:    Das  Drama.     Wesen,  Theorie  und  Technik 
des  Dramas,     t^ssen,  1909. 
An  interesting,  if  somewhat  dogmatic,  book. 

Henderson,  A.:    The  Eixylution  of  Dramatic  Technique.     North 
Am.  Rev.  189:  428-44.  Mar.  1909. 


300  BIBLIOGRAPHY  VI 

Mackaye,  Percy:  The  Playhouse  and  the  Play.    Boston,  1909. 
Suggestive. 

Perger,  a.:  System  der  dramatische  Teknik.    Berlin,  1909. 
Matthews,  Brander:  A  Study  of  the  Drama.    Boston,  1910. 

Of  great  vsdue  to  all  drama  students. 

Burger,  Max:   Dramaturgisches.    Leipzig,  1910. 
Hamilton,  Clayton:  The  Theory  of  the  Theatre.    New  York,  1910. 
Berger,  A.:  Meine Hamburgische  Dramaturgie.    Vienna,  1910. 
Strindberg,  a,  :  Dramaturgie.    Transl.  into  Grerman  by  E.  Scher- 

ing.     Munich,  191 1. 
Craig,  Gordon:  On  the  Art  of  the  Theatre.    Chicago,  1912. 

An  indispensable  although  not  a  practical  book. 

Hunt,  Elizabeth:    The  Play  of  To-day.    Studies  in  Structure. 

New  York,  I9i3. 
Galsworthy,  John:    The  New  Spirit  in  the  Drama.     In  the 

Hibbert  Journal,  April,  igiS.    Vol.  XI,  No.  3,  p.  5o8. 

Elxplains  the  point  of  view  of  the  intellectual  school. 

CouRNOS,  J.:    Gordon  Craig  and  the  Theatre  of  the  Future.     In 
Poetry  and  Drama,  vol.  I,  pp.  338-4o,  Sept.  191 3. 

LoHMEYER,  Walther:     Die  Dramaturgie   der   Massen.     Mit   4 
Biihnenplanen.    Berlin  and  Leipzig,  i9i3. 
A  very  useful  book. 

Armstrong,  Cecil  F.:  The  Dramatic  Author  s  Companion.    With 

an  introduction  by  Arthur  Bourchier.    London,  1913. 
CooMARASWAMY,    A.:     Indian    Dramatic    Technique.     Mask    6: 

109-28,  Oct.  1913. 
Archer,  William:    Play-making:    a  Manual  of  Craftsmanship. 

Boston,  1913.    New  ed.  I9i4- 

The  best  book  in  English. 

Hamilton,  Clayton:  Studies  in  Stage  Craft.    New  York,  1914. 

Covers  a  wide  range  of  topics. 

Anthony,  Luther  B.  :  Dramatology:  a  Manual  of  Craftsmanship. 
Easton,  Pa.,  1914. 
Reduces  the  art  of  playwriting  to  a  logical  formula. 


DRAMATIC  TECHNIQUE  301 

Booth,  William  Stone:  A  Practical  Guide  for  Authors  and  Play- 
wrights.   Boston,  igi^- 

Baker,  George  Pierce:  The  Technique  of  the  Drama.  Boston. 
"Intended  for  those  who  hope  to  write  plays."     [TVot  yet  published.] 

Shipman,  Louis  Evan  :  The  True  Adventures  of  a  Play.    New  York, 

1914. 

An  amiising  account  of  the  intervals  between  writing  and  producing  a 
play. 

Brunetiere,  F.  :   The  Law  of  the  Drama,  with  an  introduction  by 

Henry  Arthur  Jones.    New  York,  1914.     Publ.  of  Columbia 

University  Dramatic  Museum. 

A  useful  critical  and  technictJ  book  on  the  "conflict  theory  "of  drama. 
For  a  refutation  of  this  theory,  see  William  Archer's  "  Play-making." 

Howard,  Bronson:  The  Autobiography  of  a  Play,  with  an  intro- 
duction by  Augustus  Thomas.  New  York,  I9i4-  Publ.  of 
Columbia  University  Dramatic  Museum. 

PiNERO,  Sir  Arthur  Wing:  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  as  a  Drama- 
tist, with  an  introduction  by  Clayton  Hamilton.  New  York, 
1914.    Publ.  of  Columbia  University  Dramatic  Museum. 

Pinero's  distinction  between  the  "tactics"  and  the  "strategy"  of  play- 
making  is  worth  noting. 

Cannon,  Fanny:   Writing  and  Selling  a  Play.    New  York,  igiS. 

Contains  a  bibliography  and  scenarios.     Excellent  for  its  commercial 

suggestions. 

Palmer,  John:  Comedy.    New  York,  n.  d.  [191 5?3 

Andrews,  Charlton:     Technique  of  Play-writing.     Springfield, 

Mass.,  1915. 

A   "working  guide  of  theory  and  practice."     Home  Correspondence 
School. 


302  BIBLIOGRAPHY  VII 


VII 
HISTORICAL  CRITICISM  AND  TECHNIQUE 

[^A  general  reading  lisQ 

Classic 
Aristotle  :  Poetics.    Text  and  transl.  by  S.  H.  Butcher,  London, 

1895. 

The  fons  et  origo  of  dramatic  theory  and  criticism. 

Horace:  Art  of  Poetry.  In  A.  S.  Cook's  The  Art  of  Poetry.  The 
poetical  treatises  of  Horace,  Vida,  and  Boileau  with  the  trans- 
lations by  Howes,  Pitt,  and  Soame.    Boston,  1892. 

England  to  1850. 

Smith,  G.  Gbegoby:  Elizabethan  Critical  Essays.  2  vols.  Oxford, 
1904. 

These  are  a  collection  of  English  critical  texts  of  Elizabeth's  day  on  the 
art  of  poetry  and  drama  —  the  whole  forming  an  indispensable  reference 
book  for  students  of  dramatic  theories.  Excellent  introduction  and 
notes. 

Lodge,  Thomas:   A  Defence  of  Poetry,  Music,  and  Stage  Plays. 

1679.     R'p't'd.  in  Publ.  Shake.  Soc.  i853;   and  in  Lodge's 

Complete  Works,  ed.  E.  Gosse,  Glasgow,  1878-82. 

The  Elizabethan  stage  defended  against  the  Piuitans  by  an  actor. 
Valuable  for  local  information  about  the  stage. 

Stubbes,  Philip:    The  Anatomic  of  Abuses.     i583.    R'p't'd.  ed. 

by  F.  J.  Furnivall,  in  New  Shake.  Soc.  Publ.  1877. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  virulent  in  the  long  list  of  Puritan  stage  attacks. 
It  is,  however,  a  mine  of  information  on  the  EUzabethan  theatre  and  stage. 

JoNSON,  Ben:  Timber,  or  Discoveries.  Ed.  F.  E.  SchelUng,  Boston, 
1892. 

Jonson's  theory  of  drama  exj)ounded  in  considerable  detail.  See  also 
the  dedications,  prologues,  or  inductions  to  his  plays,  notably:  "Every 
Man  in  his  Humour;"  "Every  Man  Out  of  his  Humour;"  "Vol- 
pone;"  "Cynthia's  Revels;"  "The  Alchemist;"  "Bartholomew  Fair;" 
"The  Magnetic  Lady;"  Act  V  of  the  "New  Inn;"  "The  Poetaster;" 
"Sejanus;"  "Epicoene,  or  the  Silent  Woman;"  "The  Staple  of  News;" 
"Masque  of  Hymen;"  "Love's  Triumphs;"  and  "Masque  of  Queens." 


HISTORICAL  CRITICISM  AND  TECHNIQUE     303 

Bacon,    Sir   Francis:     The   Advancement   of  Learning.     i6o5. 

See  Bk.  II  for  the  general  relations  of  poetry  and  art.     Essayes 

or  Counsels  Civill   and  Morall,   see  Essay  XXXVII,    "Of 

Masques  and  Triumphs." 
Shakespeare,  William:  Hamlet,  II,  ii;  III,  i.    Henry  V,  Choruses. 

Winter  s  Tale,  Time  as  Chorus. 
Milton,  John:  Preface  to  Samson  Agonistes. 

A  defence  of  tragedy  based  upon  Italian  principles. 

Dryden,  John:  Essays.    Ed.  W.  P.  Ker.     Oxford,  1900. 

This  volume  contains  Dryden's  principal  essays  on  dramatic  theory. 

Spingarn,  J.  E.:    Seventeenth  Century  Critical  Essays.     2  vols. 
1908. 

A  collection  similar  to  Gregory  Smith's  Elizabethan  Essays,  and  equally 
veduable. 

Rapin,  Ren6  de:    Rejlections  on  Aristotle's   Treatise  of  Poesie, 
etc.    Trans.  T.  Rymer,  1674. 
Of  great  influence  on  eighteenth-century  dramatic  theory  in  England. 

Collier,  Jeremy  :  A  Short  View  of  the  Profaneness  and  Immorality 
of  the  English  Stage.     1698. 
A  scathing  denunciation  of  Restoration  comedy. 

Farquhar,    George:     A    Discourse   upon   Comedy.     In    Belles- 

Lettres  Series.     Boston,  191  A- 
Pope,  Alexander :   An  Essay  on  Criticism.     1711.     The  Dunciad. 

1728. 
Addison,  Joseph:    On  Tragedy.     Spectator,  89,  ^o,  42,  44,  45; 

On  Wit,  Spectator  58-63;  Sir  Roger  at  the  Theatre,  Spectator, 

335;  On  the  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination,  Spectator,  ^n-^'2i. 
Steele,  Richard:   Prologues  to  The  Funeral  and  The  Conscious 

Lovers. 
Johnson,  Samuel:     Tragi-comedy.     Rambler,    i56.     Preface   to 

his  edition  of  Shakespeare. 

His  (ximments  on  stage  illusion  and  the  unitii>s  in  the  preface  are  excellent. 

An  Apology  for  the  Life  of  Colley  Cibber,    I'j^o.      R'p't'd.   ed. 
R.  W.  Lowe.     2  vols.     London,  1889. 
For  details  of  the  stage  of  his  period. 


304  BIBLIOGRAPHY  VIII 

Churchill,  Charles:    The  Rosciad.     1761.    R'p't'd.  1768  with 

additions.     Ed.  R.  W.  Lowe,  London,  1891. 
Sheridan,  Richard  Brinsley:    The  Critic.    Everyman  edition. 

Burlesque  of  tragedy. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter:  Essays  on  Chivalry,  Romance  and  the  Drama. 

Coleridge,  S.  T.  :  Literary  Remains.  Ed.  H.  N.  Coleridge,  4 
vols.  London,  iSSS-Sg.  Vol.  II,  pp.  i2-53.  Drama.  Vol. 
IV  on  Shakespeare. 

Hazlitt,  W.:  Characters  of  Shakespeare's  Plays,  1817;  English 
Poets,  1818;  English  Comic  Writers,  1819;  Dramatic  Lit- 
erature of  the  Reign  of  Elizabeth,  1821.  A  View  of  the 
English  Stage. 

Hunt,  Leigh:  Dramatic  Essays.  Ed.  Wm.  Archer  and  R.  W. 
Lowe,  London,  1894. 

Lamb,  Charles:  Dramatic  Essays.  Ed.  Brander  Matthews. 
New  York,  1891. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.  :  Critical  and  Historical  Essays  contributed  to  the 

Edinburgh   Review.     i843. 

See  Comic  Dramatists  of  the  Restoration — a  reply  to  Charles  Lamb's 
essay  on  the  same  subject.    Macaulay 's  appeared  Jan.  i84i. 


VIII 

France 

(For  an  excellent  summary  and  account  of  Italian  Renaissance 
dramatic  theories,  which  are  the  sources,  together  with  Aris- 
totle and  Horace,  of  French  theories,  see  Spingarn,  J.  E.r 
The  Early  Renaissance.) 

Corneille,  Pierre:  De  VUtilite  et  des  parties  du  poeme  dramatique; 
De  la  Tragedie;  and  Des  Trois  Unites.  Paris,  1660.  In 
(Euvres,  vol.  I.  Paris,  1862.  See  also  the  Examens  prefixed 
to  his  plays. 


HISTORICAL  CRITICISM  AND  TECHNIQUE      305 

Saint-Evremond:  The  critical  material  wiU  be  found  in  vol.  II 
of  Giraud's   edition    of  (Euvres  melees  de  Saint-Evremond. 
3  vols.    Paris,  i865. 
Discusses  French  and  English  drama,  the  theory  of  tragedy,  the  opera,  etc. 

BoiLEAu:  UArt  poetique.  1674.  Ed.  D.  Nichol  Smith,  Cam- 
bridge.    1898. 

Boileau's  critical  poem  had  a  profound  influence  upon  French  dramatic 
technique. 

Racine,  Jean:  (Euvres.    Ed.  Mesnard.    Paris,  1 885-88. 
Hedelin,  pRANgois,  Abbe  d'Aubignac:  Le  Pratique  du  theatre. 

3  vols.    Amsterdam,  1715.    Written  1657. 

An  interesting  early  work  on  dramaturgy  —  long  and  complicated  but 

repays  reading. 

BossuET,  J.  B.:    Maximes  et  Reflexions  sur  la  comedie.     1694. 
R'p't'd.  ed.  Gazier,  Paris,  1881. 
Deals  chiefly  with  Moliere. 

Voltaire:    Lettres  sur  Us  Anglais;  Commentaires  sur  Corneille; 

Melanges  litteraires. 
Rousseau,  Jean-Jacques:    De  V Imitation  thedtrale.    In  (Euvres 

Completes,    vol.    HI,    pp.    183-191;     Lettre    a    D'Alembert 

[1758]. 
Cailhava,  M.  de:  [Jean  F.  Cailhava  d'Estandoux]:  De  VArt  de  la 

comedie.    2  vols.    Paris,  1786. 
Diderot,  Denis:  De  la  poesie  dramatique.     In  vol.  VII,  pp.  307- 

39/i  of  CEutTe*comp/e/es,ed.  J.  Assizat.    20  vols.    Paris,  1875-7. 
Hugo,  Victor:  Preface  to  Cromwell.    [1828.] 

A  manifesto  in  behalf  of  the  romantic  drama. 

IX 

HISTORICAL  CRITICISM  AND  TECHNIQUE 

Germany 

Lessing,  G.  E.:  Werke.  20  vols,  in  12.  Berlin,  n.  d.  Vol.  VI 
Laokoon.  Vol.  VII  Hamburgische  Dramaturgie.  Vol.  XI, 
pts.  i-a,  Kleinere  Schriften  zur  dramatischen  Poesie. 


306  BIBLIOGRAPHY  X 

Goethe,  J.  W.  von:  Sdmmtliche  Werke.  4o  vols,  in  20.  Stuttgart, 
i84o.  Vol.  XXXV,  pp.  333-459,  Theater  und  dramatische 
Poesie. 

See  also  his  "Conversations  with  Eckermeinn."  In  Goethe's  works, 
transl.  by  J.  Oxenford,  London,  1875,  vol.  VI.  His  comments  upon 
stage  scenery  are  particularly  interesting. 

Schiller,  J.  C.  F.:     The  jEsthetical  and  Philosophical  Essays. 
In  vol.  VIII  of  the  Cambridge  ed.  of  his  Works.    Transl., 
Boston,  1884. 
Pp.  339-367,  On  the  Stage  and  on  Tragedy. 

Hegel,  G.  W.  F.:    Vorlesungen  izber  Astheiik.    Die  dramatische 

Poesie  in  Werke,  vol.  X,  chap.  3.    18  vols.    Berlin,  i833-48. 
Schlegel,  a.  W.  von:   Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art  and  Literature. 

Eng.  transl.  Bohn's  Library.     London,  i846.     Rev.  ed.  1871 

and  1876. 
Hebbel,   Friedmch:    Asthetische  und  dramaturgische  Schriften. 

In  Sdmmtliche  Werke.     Hamburg,  i865. 
Wagner,  Richard:  Prose  Works.    Transl.  William  Ashton  Ellis. 

London,  1892. 
Nietzsche,  Friedrich:    The  Birth  of  Tragedy.    Transl.  William 

A.  Haussmann.     In  vol.  II  of  the  Works,  ed.  by  Dr.  Oscar 

Levy.    London,  1909. 


X 

A  SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM 
[FROM   i85o] 

English  and  American 

Coleridge,  S.  T.:    Seven  Lectures  on  Shakespeare  and  Milton. 

Ed.  by  J.  Payne  Collier.     London,  i856. 
Donne,  William  B.  :  Essays  on  the  Drama.     London,  i858. 
Arnold,  Matthew:  Preface  to  Merope,  a  tragedy.    London,  i858. 

This  preface  has  not  been  reprinted. 


SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM     307 

DoRAN,  John:    Their  Majesties'  Servants,  or  Annals  of  the  English 

Stage.     2d  ed.    London,  i865.    R'p't'd.  ed.  by  R.  W.  Lowe. 

London,  1888. 
FrrzGERAU),  Percy:   Principles  of  Comedy  and  Dramatic  Effect. 

London,  1870. 
Knowles,  J.  S.:   Lectures  on  Dramatic  Literature,  delivered  .  .  . 

during    the   years    1820-1850.      London,    i873.      Privately 

printed. 

A  rare  book  —  not  very  useful. 

Simpson,  E.  :     Dramatic  Unities  in  the  Present  Day.     2d  ed., 

London,  1875. 
Cook,  Dutton:  Book  of  the  Play.     2  vols.     London,  1876. 

Contains  much  valuable  material. 

Carteret-Bisson,  F.  S.  Dumaresq  de:  The  Drama  as  an  Element 

of  Education.     London,  1882. 
Cook,  Dutton:  Nights  at  the  Play.     2  vols.    London,  i883. 
Cook,  Dutton:  On  the  Stage.     2  vols.    London,  i883. 
Archer,  William:  About  the  Theatre.     London,  1886. 
Tree,  Sir  Herbert  Beerbohm:    Some  Interesting  Fallacies  of 

the  Modern  Stage.     London,  1892. 
Walkley,  A.  B.:  Playhouse  Impressions.     London,  1892. 
Hunt,  Leigh:   Dramatic  Essays,  with  notes  and  an  introduction 

by  William  Archer  and  Robert  W.  Lowe.     London,  1894. 
Matthews,  James  Brander:  Studies  of  the  Stage.     New  York, 

189/i. 
Jones,  H.  A.:    The  Renascence  of  the  English  Drama.     London, 

1895. 
Meredith,  George:    An  Essay  on  Comedy  and  the  Uses  of  tfie 

Comic  Spirit.     New  York,  1897. 

The  most  brilliant  piece  of  mo<lem  dramati<:  criticism. 

FiLON,  Augustin:    The  English  Stage.    Transl.  Frederic  Whyte. 
London,  1897. 
An  excellent  hook.     An  account  of  the  Victorian  drama. 

NiRDLiNGER,  Charles  F.t  Mosqucs  and  Mummers.    New  York, 
1899- 


308  BIBLIOGRAPHY  X 

Hapgood,  Norman:  The  Stage  in  America,  1897-1900.    New  York, 

1901. 
FiLON,  Augustin:  Modern  French  Drama.    London,  1898. 

Excellent. 

ScoTT,  Clement:    The  Drama  of  Yesterday  and  To-day.     2  vols. 
London,  1899. 
A  defence  of  Victorian  drama.   Valuable  for  material  relating  to  Irving. 

Grein,  J.  T.:  Dramatic  Criticism.     5  vols.    London,  1899-1905. 
One  of  the  soundest  of  English  critics. 

NiRDLiNGER,  C.  F.:    Masqucs  and  Mummers.     Essays  on  the 
theatre  of  here  and  now.     New  York,  1899. 
Of  little  importance. 

Grein,  J.  T.:  Premihes  of  the  Year.    London,  1900. 
The  new  spirit  in  criticism. 

Courtney,  W.  L.:    The  Idea  of  Tragedy  in  Ancient  and  Modern 
Drama.    With  a  prefatory  note  by  A.  W.  Pinero.     New  York, 
1900. 
Saintsbury,  G.:  History  of  Criticism.    3  vols.     1900-1904. 
,    Summaries  of  all  important  works  on  dramatic  theories. 

Symons,  Arthur:  Plays,  Acting,  and  Music.     London,  1908. 
Matthews,  James  Braivder:    The  Development  of  the  Drama. 

New  York,  1902. 
Strang,  Lewis  C.  :  Players  and  Plays  of  the  Last  Quarter  Century. 

Boston,  1908. 
Adams,  William  D.:   A  Dictionary  of  the  Drama.    Vol.  I,  A-G 

(all  published).     London,  1904. 
Hale,  E.  E.,  Jr.:  Dramatists  of  To-day.    New  York,  1906.    New 

ed.,  1912. 
HuNEKER,  James  G.  :  Iconoclasts,  a  hook  of  dramatists.    New  York, 

1906. 
Hermann,  Oscar:  Living  Dramatists.    New  York,  1905. 
Shaw,  George  Bernard:  Dramatic  Opinions  and  Essays.    New 

York,  1906. 
Matthews,  James  Brander:  French  Dramatists  of  the  Nineteenth 

Century.    New  York,  1906. 


SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM     309 

Ward,  A.  W.,  Ed.:    The  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature. 
1907.     (In  progress.) 
Exceptionally  valueible  for  dramatic  bibliographies. 

MacCarthy,  D.:   The  Court  Theatre,  1904-07.    London,  1907. 
Darbyshire,  a.:   Art  of  the  Victorian  Stage.    Manchester,  1907. 
Walkley,  a.  R.:  Drama  and  Life.    New  York,  1908. 
BoRSA,   Mario:    The  English  Stage  of  To-day.    London,   1908. 

Transl.  by  Selwyn  Brinton. 
Eaton,  W.  P. :   The  American  Stable  of  To-day.    Boston,  1908. 
Caffin,  Charles  H.  :  The  Appreciation  of  the  Drama.   New  York, 

1908. 

Contains  some  suggestive  points. 

Vaughn,  C.  E.:   Types  of  Tragic  Drama.    New  York,  1908. 
Thorndike,  a.  H.:  Tragedy.    In  Types  of  Elng.  Lit.  Series,  1908. 

Repays  cau^ful  study. 

Archer,  Whjjam,  and  Rarker,  Granvhxe:   Scheme  and  Esti- 
mates for  a  National  Theatre.    London,  1908. 
Mackaye,  Percy:  The  Playhouse  and  the  Play.     New  York,  1909. 
Bradley,  A.  C. :  Oxford  Lectures  on  Poetry.     1909. 
Howe,  P.  P.:  The  Repertory  Theatre.    London,  1910. 

An  early  survey  of  the  new  movement. 

Eaton,  W.  P.:  At  the  New  Theatre  and  Others.    Roston,  1910. 
Hamh^ton,  Clayton  M.:   The  Theory  of  the  Theatre.    New  York, 

1910. 

Superficial  but  interesting. 

Dukes,  Ashley:    Modern  Dramatists.    London,  191 1. 
Spence,  E.  F.:  Our  Stage  and  its  Critics.     London,  191 1. 
Montague,  C.  E.:   Dramatic  Values.    London,  191 1. 

A  valuable  book. 

Pollard,   Percival:    Masks  and  Minstrels  of  New  Germany. 

Boston,  191 1. 
Henderson,  A. :  Interpreters  of  Life  and  the  Modern  Spirit.    New 

York,  191 1. 


310  BIBLIOGRAPHY  X 

Montague,  C.  E.  :  The  Literary  Play.  In  Vol.  II,  p.  71,  of  Essays 
and  Studies  by  Members  of  the  English  Association.  Oxford, 
1911. 

Moses,  Montrose  J.:    The  American  Dramatist.    Boston,  191 1. 

Walbrook,  H.  M.:  Nights  at  the  Play.    London,  191 1. 

Carter,  Huntley:  The  New  Spirit  in  Drama  and  Art.  London, 
1912. 

A  partial  contribution  to  the  new  dramatic  movement. 

Yeats,  W.  B.:   The  Cutting  of  an  Agate.     London,  1912. 
Mackaye,  Percy:  The  Civic  Theatre.    New  York,  1912. 

A  plan  for  democratizing  the  drama. 

Oliver,  D.  H.:  The  English  Stage.    London,  1912. 
A  small  handbook. 

Andrews,  Charlton:  The  Drama  To-day.    Philadelphia,  1918. 
Hart,  Jerome:  Sardou  and  the  Sardou  Plays.     Philadelphia,  1918. 
Jones,  H.  A. :    The  Foundations  of  a  National  Drama.    London, 

1918. 
Burton,  Richard  Eugene:    The  New  American  Drama.    New 

York,  cop.  1918. 
Hunt,  Elizabeth  R.  :  The  Play  of  To-Day.    New  York,  19 18. 

Superficial. 

Howe,  P.  P.:  Dramatic  Portraits.    New  York,  1918. 
Amusing  but  prejudiced  criticism. 

Spingarn,  J.  E.:   A  Note  on  Dramatic  Criticism.     Oxford,  1918. 

In  Essays  and  Studies  by  Members  of  the  English  Association, 

vol.  IV. 
Gregory,  Lady:  Our  Irish  Theatre.    New  York,  1918. 
Sturgis,  Granville  Forbes:   The  Influence  of  the  Drama.    New 

York,  1918. 
Weygandt,  C:   Irish  Plays  and  Playwrights.    Boston,  1918. 
Bourgeois,  M.:    John  Millington  Synge  and  the  Irish  Theatre. 

New  York,  1918. 
Henderson,  Archibald:  European  Dramatists.    Cincinnati,  1918. 
Secker,  Martin:  Dramatic  Portraits.     London,  1918. 


SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM     311 

Palmer,  John:  The  Theatre  of  the  Future.     London,  igiS. 
George,  W.L.:  Dramatic  Actualities.    London,  igi^. 
Instructive  essays  on  various  topics  of  the  stage. 

Cheney,  Sheldon:  The  New  Movement  in  the  Theatre.    New  York, 

A  useful  book.     Illustrations  of  modem  scenery. 

Chandler,  Frank  W.:   Aspects  of  Modern  Drama.    New  York, 
1914. 

Analyses  of  two  hundred  euid  eighty  plots.     Bibliographies. 

Carter,  Huntley  :    The  Theatre  of  Max  Reinhardt.     New  York, 
1914. 
One  of  the  few  works  in  English  on  this  German  producer. 

Howe,  P.  P.:  Dramatic  Portraits.     New  York,  igi^- 
Critical  sketches  of  modem  EInglish  dramatists. 

Goldman,  Emma:    The  Social  Significance  of  the  Modern  Drama. 
Boston,  iQiA- 
Contains  many  excellent  points. 

Clark,  Barrett  H.:    The  Continental  Drama  of  To-day.    New 

York,  iQid-     Bibliographies. 
Moderwell,  H.  K.:   The  Theatre  of  To-day.    Boston,  1914. 

One  of  the  best  American  books  on  this  subject. 

Clark,  Barrett  H.:     British  and  American  Drama  of  To-day. 

New  York,  1914. 
HamHiTON,  Clayton:  Studies  in  Stage-craft.     New  York,  igiA- 
Burton,  Richard  E.:  How  to  See  a  Play.     New  York,  igi^- 
Dickinson,  Thomas  H.:    The  Case  of  American  Drama.    New 
York,    1 91 5.     Also  chaps,   on  The  Theatre   in   the  Open; 
Festivals  and  Pageantry. 
Lewisohn,  Ludwig:   The  Modern  Drama.     An  essay  in  interpre- 
tation.   New  York,  191 5. 


312  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XI 

XI 

A  SELECTED  UST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM 

Modern  French. 
Zola,  ^mile:  Le  Naturalisme  au  theatre.    Paris,  3d  ed.,  1881. 

Theories  and  examples. 
Gautier,  Theophile:    Souvenirs  de  theatre,  dart  et  de  critique. 

Paris,  i883. 
Brunetiere,  Ferdbvand:    Etudes  critiques  sur  Vhisioire   de   la 

litterature.    Paris,  1886-1907. 
Darzens,  R.:  Le  Theatre-libre  illustre.     Paris,  1890. 
R.    Gallet:      L'Art    nouveau   au    theatre    libre.      Paris,    1890. 

Pamphlet. 
Brunetiere,  Ferdevand:   Introduction  to  Annates  du  theatre  — 

for  the  year  1898.     Paris,  iSgS. 

Contains  the  statement  of  the  "conflict  theory"  of  drama. 

Dumas,  Alexandre:    Le  drame  de  quatre-vingt-treize.      3  vols. 

Paris,  1895. 
Mendes,  Catulle:    UArt  au  theatre.     2  vols.     Paris,  1896-97. 

3d  vol.  1900. 
Faguet,  ^jMJLe:  Drame  ancien,  drame  moderne.    Paris,  1898. 
FiLON,  AuGUSTDv:  Modern  French  Drama.     Transl.  J.  E.  Hogarth. 

Intro.  W.  L.  Courtney.     London,  1898.     (From  Dumas  to 

Rostand.) 
Brunetiere,  Ferdinand:    U Evolution  des  genres  dans  Vhistoire 

de  la  litterature.     Paris,  1900. 
Sarcey,  F.:   Quarante  Ans  de  Theatre.    8  vols.    Paris,  1900-1902. 

(Feuilletons   dramatiques.) 
Claretie,  Jules:  Profits  de  theatre.     Paris,  1902. 
Glachant,  p.,  and  V.:    I.  Un  Laboratoire  dramaturgique.     Essai 

critique  sur  le  theatre  de  Victor  Hugo.     Les  drames  en  prose, 

les  drames  epiques,  les  comedies  lyriques,  1822-86.     Paris, 

1903.     II.  Les  drames  en  vers,  1827-39.     Paris,  1902. 

The  first  vol.  b  by  P.  Glachant  alone  —  the  second,  in  collaboration. 


SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM     313 

Dubois,  H.  P.:  French  Maxims  of  the  Stage.    London,  1902. 
Lanson,  G.:   Les  Origines  du  drame  contemporain.     NiveUe  de  la 

Chaussee  et  la  comedie  larmoyante.    Paris,  iqo3. 
Faguet,  E.:  Propos  de  theatre.    Paris,  1 908. 
RoLLAND,  R.:  Le  Theatre  du  peuple.    Paris,  1904.    Essai  d'esth^- 

tique  d'un  theatre  nouveau. 
Le  Roy,  A.:  UAuhe  du  thedtre  romantique.    Paris,  1904. 
Faguet,  E.:  Propos  de  thedtre.    2^  serie.     Paris,  1905. 
Le  Rraz,  a.:  Le  Thedtre  celtique.     Paris,  1905. 
Capus,  a.  :  Notre  Epoque  et  le  Thedtre.     Paris,  1906. 
Thalasso,  a.:  Le  Thedtre  Libre,  1887-96.     Paris,  1906. 
Faguet,  E.  :  Propos  de  thedtre,  3®  serie.     Paris,  1906. 
Brisson,  a.:  Le  Thedtre  et  les  Moeurs.    Paris,  1907.    There  are 

seven  volumes  under  the  general  title  Le  Thedtre,  1907-1909. 

This  is  vol.  I. 
Faguet,  E.  :  Propos  de  Thedtre.     4*  s^rie.     Paris,  1907. 
Kahn,  a.:  Le  Thedtre  social  en  France.     Paris,  1907. 
DouMic,  R.:  Le  Thedtre  nouveau.     Paris,  1908. 
Seche,  a.,  and  Bertaut,  J.:  U Evolution  du  thedtre  contemporain. 

Paris,  1908. 
LoRDE,  A.  de:    Thedtre  d'epouvante.     Paris,  1909. 
Ginisty,  p.:  Le  Melodrame.     Paris,  1910.     Illus. 
Guillemot,  J.:    U Evolution  de  Videe  dramatique  de  Corneille  a 

Dumas  fils.    Paris,  1910. 
Faguet,  E.:  Propos  de  thedtre.     5^  ser.     Paris,  19 10. 
Gabllard  de  Champris,  H.:  Augier  et  la  comedie  sociale.     Paris, 

1910. 
Bethleem,  L.  :  Les  Pieces  de  thedtre.  Th^se  et  arguments.     Paris, 

1910. 
Bordeaux,  H.:   La  Vie  au  theatre.     Paris,  1910. 
Ernest-Charles  J.:    I^  Thedtre  des  pontes,  1 850-1910.      Paris, 

1910. 
Bourget,  Paul:  Reflexions  sur  le  thedtre.     In  Etudes  et  Portraits, 

vol.  I.     Paris,  191 1. 
Melotte,  p.:  Essai  sur  le  theatre  futur.     Paris,  1911. 


314  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XII 

Benoist,   Antoine:    Le   Theatre  (Tdujowd'hui.     2   vols.   Paris, 

1911-12. 
Falconnet,   L.:    "Die  Makkabder"   (TOUo  Ludwig.    Essai   de 

renovation  theatrale.     Paris,   19 13. 
Patouillet,  J.:   Ostrowski  el  son  theatre  de  maws  russes.    Paris, 

1913. 

XII 

A  SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM 

Modern  German 

Hebbel,  Friedmch:    Asthetische  imd  dramaturgische  Schriften. 
In  Sammtliche  Werke.    Hamburg,  i865. 
The  new  spirit  in  German  drama  begins  with  Hebbel. 

ScHLEGEL,  A.  W.  von:  A  Course  of  Lectures  on  Dramatic  Art  and 
Literature.  Transl.  J.  Black.  Rev.  ed.  by  A.  J.  W.  Morrison 
in  Bohn's  Standard  Library.     1871.     ist  Ger.  ed.  1809-11. 

Klaar,  a.:  Das  moderne  Drama  dargestelU  in  seinen  Richtungen 
und  Hauptvertretern.    Leipzig,  i883-4. 

Bahb,  Herman:  Studien  zur  Kritik  der  Moderne.  Frankfort  on 
Main,  1894. 

Steiger,  Edgar:  Das  Werden  des  neuen  Dramas.  2  vols.  Berlin, 
1898. 

Spielhagen,  Friedr.  :  Neue  Beitrdge  zur  Theorie  und  Technik  der 
Epik  und  Dramatik.    Leipzig,  1898. 

Lessevg,  Theodor:  Alte  und  Neue  Schauspielkunst.     1899. 

A  comparison  of  the  new  movement  with  the  traditional. 

GoTTSCHALL,  R.  VON:  Zur  Kritik  des  modernen  Dramas.     Berlin, 

1900. 
Weitbrecht,  C:    Das  deutsche  Drama.     Gnindziige  seiner  As- 

thetik.        Berlin,  2d  ed.  1908. 
Harlan,  W.  :  Schule  des  Lustspiels.    Psychologie  des  Zuschauers. 

Berlin,  1903. 


SELECTED  LIST  OF  DRAMATIC  CRITICISM     315 

NossiG,  A.:  Die  Erneuerung  des  Dramas.    Berlin,  1906. 

KiENZL,  H. :  Drama  der  Gegenwart.     Graz,  igoS. 

Kerr,  A.:  Das  neue  Drama.    Berlin,  igoS. 

Devrient,  E.:   Geschichte  der  deuischen  Schauspielkunst.     Berlin, 

igoS. 
Hageman,  C:    Aufgaben  des  Modernen  Theaters.    Leipzig  and 

Berlin,  1906. 
Laube,  H,:    Theaterkritiken  and  dramaturgische  Aufsdtze.     2  vols. 

Berlin,  1906. 
Jacobi,  M.  E.:    Die  Kullurwelt  der  Schaubiihne.     Leipzig,  1907. 

Diss. 
ToRiNUS,  v.:   Goethe  als  Dramxiturg.    Leipzig,  1908. 
Arnold,  Robert  Franz:  Das  moderne  Drama.    Strassburg,  1908. 
WiTKOWSKi,  Georg:    The  German  Drama  of  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury.   Transl.  by  L.  E.  Horning.     New  York,  1910. 
Pollard,   Percival:    Masks  and  Minstrels  of  New  Germany. 

New  York,  191 1. 

The  latter  two  are  popular  studies  of  modem  German  dramatists. 

LoTHAR,  R. :  Das  deutsche  Drama  der  Gegenwart. 
Profusely  illustrated. 

Petsch,  Robert:   Deutsche  Dramaturgic  von  Lessing  his  Hebbel. 
Berlin,  191 2. 
Small  popular  volume,  but  clear  and  explicit. 

Melitz,  Leo:   Fiihrer  durch  das  Schauspiel  der  Gegenwart.     Illiis. 

with  photographs  of  scenes  from  modern  plays.     Berlin,  igiS. 

Melitz's  "guides"  to  things  dramatic  are  very  useful.     See  also  his 
guide  to  operas  and  to  operettas.     BerUn,  igi'i. 

Schlaikjer,  Erich:   Gegenwart  und  Zukunft  der  deutschen  Schau- 
biihne.    Stuttgart,  191 2. 

A  small  pamphlet. 

Scholz,  Wilhelm  von:    Deutsche  Dramaturgic.     3  vols.  Munich, 

1912-19M. 
FucHS,   Georg:     Schaubiihne  der  Zukunft.     Munich,    igiij.     In 

Das  Theater,  i5. 


316  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIII 

Landau,  P.:  Mimen.    Histor.  Miniaturen.    Berlin,  1914. 
Bab,  J.:    Nehenrollen.     Ein  dramaturg.  Mikrokosmos.     Berlin, 
1914. 

XIII 

PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART 

Serlio,  S.  :  Les  Sept  Litres  de  V Architecture.  Printed  i545.  Transl. 

into  French.     Paris,  n.  d. 

Contains  many  detailed  descriptions  of  staging,  scenes,  and  mechanical 
devices  of  the  early  Italian  stage. 

Vasari:  Lives  of  the  Painters. 

There  are  many  descriptions  scattered  through  its  pages  of  scenes  de- 
signed by  Renaissance  artists. 

Sabattini:   Practica  di  fabricar  scene  e  machine  nei  theatri.     Ra- 
venna, 1 638. 

ToRELLi,  Jacques:   Decorations  et  machines  aprestees  aux  Nopces 
de  Tetis.    Paris,  i654.     Plates. 

RiccoBONi:  Histoire  du  Theatre  Italien.     Paris,  1731. 
Contains  technical  descriptions  of  staging. 

Rousseau,  J.-J.  :  De  rimitaiion  thedtrale.    Essai  tire  des  dialogues 

de  Platon.    Amsterdam,  1764. 
Nougaret:  De  VArt  du  theatre  en  general.     2  vols.     Paris,  1769. 

Comedy,  tragedy,  pastorals,  parodies,  operas  and  lyric  dramas  described. 
RouBo:   Traite  de  la  construction  des  theatres  et  des  machines  thed- 

trales.     Paris,  1777.     Plates. 
Boullet:   Essai  sur  Vart  de  construire  les  theatres,  leurs  machines 

et  leurs  mx)uvements.    Paris,  1801. 
Chamfort,  S.  R.  N.  :  Precis  de  Vart  drairmtique  des  anciens  et  des 

modernes.    2  vols.    Paris,  1808.     ist  ed.    Paris  1776.    "Dic- 

tionnairedramatique,"  in  collaboration  with  I'Abbe  deLaporte. 

The  definitions  are  marked  by  logic  and  common-sense.    A  posthumous 
publication. 

Grobert:    De  V execution  dramatique  consideree  dans  ses  rapports 
avec  le  materiel  de  la  salle  et  de  la  scene.    Paris,  1809.    Plates. 


PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART  317 

Harel:    Dictionnaire  ihedtral,   ou  douze  cent  trenle-trois  verites 

siw  les  directeurs,  regisseurs,  acieurs,  aclrices  .  .  .;  confidences 

sur  les  precedes  de  V  illusion,  etc.     Paris,  1824. 
Aristippe  [Felix  Bemier]:  Theorie  de  Vart  da  comedien,  ou  manuel 

thedtral.    Paris,  1828. 

Strictly  on  acting,  but  interesting  as  illustrating  a  type  of  staging. 
SoLOME :  Indications  generates  et  observations  pour  la  mise  en  scene 

de  la  "Muette  de  Portici."    Paris,  1828. 
Rousseau  and  Raisson:    Code  thedtral,  physiologic  des  tfieatres, 

manuel  complet  de  Vauteur,  du  directeur,  etc.     Paris,  1829. 

Satirical. 

ViOLLET-LE-Duc:    Prccis  de  dramatique,  ou  Vart  de  composer  et 
executer  les  pieces  de  theatre.     Paris,  1800. 
An  excellent  and  much  neglected  book.     Repays  careful  study. 

MoRiCE,  Emile:   Histoire  de  la  mise  en  scene  depuis  les  Mysleres 
jusqu'a  le  Cid.    Paris,  i836. 

The  author  died  before  the  work  was  completed  and  the  rest  of  his  memu- 
script  notes  have  never  been  published. 

DopjNET,    Orgiazzi,    et    Kauffmaivn:     Architectonographie    des 

theatres.     2   vols.     Paris,    1 887-40. 
Devrient,    Ejduard:    Geschichte   der  deutschen    Schauspielkunst. 

5  vols.  Leipzig,  1848-74. 

A  comprehensive  work. 

Paris,  Paulin:  La  mise  en  sckne  des  Mysleres.     Paris,  i85o. 
Sand,  Maurice:   Masques  et  Bouffons.     2  vols.     Pains,  1869. 
The  colored  plates  of  the  characters  of  Italian  comedy  are  invtJuable. 

Gautier,   Theophile:    Histoire  de   Vart   dramatique  en   France 

depuis  25  ans.     6  vols.     Paris,  1858-9. 
Samson,    J.    I.:     UArt    thedtral.     2    vols.     Paris,    i865.     Illus. 

R'p't'd.  in  I  vol.  1889.     Another  ed.  with  intro.  by  M.  Silvain, 

1912. 

A  poem. 
Celler,  LuDOVic:   Fa's  decors,  les  costumes,  et  la  mise  en  schne  au 

XVI r  si^cle.     Paris,  1869. 
Garnier,  Charles:   I^  Theatre.     Paris,  1871. 

Mainly    architectural. 


318  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIII 

MoYNET,  J.:  UEnvers  du  theatre.    Machines  et  decoration.     Paris, 
1873. 
Frequently  quoted  by  Pougin  in  his  dictionnaire. 

Perrin,  ^Emile:   Lettre  a  M.  Sarcey  sur  la  raise  en  scene.     Paris, 
1880. 
Perrin  was  scene  designer  for  the  Comedie  Francaise. 

Becq  de  Fouquieres,  L.:    UArt  de  la  mise  en  scene.    Essai 

d'esthetique.     Paris,  i884. 
Pougin,  Arthur:   Dictionnaire  historique  et  piitoresque  du  theatre 

et  des  arts  qui  s'y  rattachent.    Paris,  i885. 

An  invaluable  book.     Contains  full  and  rare  illustrations. 

Bequet,  C.  M.  E.:  Encyclopedie  de  Varl  dramatique.    Paris,  i885. 
Vaucaire,  Maurice:  Ejfets  de  theatre.    La  scene  et  la  salle.     Le 

Ballet,  etc.     Paris,  1886. 
Saint-Saens,  C:    Note  sur  hs  decors  de  theatre  dans  Vantiquite 

romaine.     Paris,  1886. 
Baker,   S.:    Guide  to   Theatrical  Scene  Painting   in  Distemper. 

London,  1889. 
Genee,  Rudolph:   Die  Entwicklung  des  szenischen  Theaters  und 

die  Biihnenreform  in  Miinchen.     1889. 

Early  symptom  of  the  new  movement. 

ScHLENTHER,  Paul:  Gcnesis  der  Freien  Biihne.     Berlin,  1889. 
An  account  of  the  rise  of  the  free  stage  in  Berlin. 

Bourdon,  G.:   La  Resurrection  (Tun  art;   le  theatre  grec  moderne. 

Paris,  1892, 
GiNiSTY,  Paul:  Choses  et  Gens  de  theatre.     Paris,  1892. 

Ginisty  is  one  of  the  "erudite"  of  the  theatre,  according  to  French  critics. 

MoYNET,  Georges:    La  Machinerie  thedtrale.     Trues  et  decors. 
Paris,  1898. 
Out  of  date,  but  useful. 

Bapst,  G.:  Essai  sur  Vhistoire  du  thedtre.     Paris,  1893. 
Indispensable.     To  be  consulted  constantly. 

Lefevre,  J.:  UElectricite  au  thedtre.     Paris,  1894. 

Obsolete.     See  also  a  work  of  the  same  title  by  H.  Wibrant.    Paris,  1897. 


PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART  319 

Mendes,  C:  U Art  au  theatre.    3  vols.     Paris,  1895-1900. 
Navarre,  Octave:  Dionysos.    fitude  sur  rorganisation  materielle 

du  theatre  athenien.    Paris,  iSgS. 
BoucHOT,  Henri:  Catalogue  de  dessins  relaiifs  a  Vhistoire  du  theatre 

conserve  audepartemeni  desestampes  de  la  Bibliotheque  nationale. 

.  .  .  Peiris,  1896. 

There  are  also  valuable  collections  of  prints  and  theatrical  material  in 
the  museum  of  the  Paris  Opera  £uid  at  the  Comedie  Frangaise.  In 
America,  the  Dramatic  Museum  of  Columbia  University  has  important 
exhibits. 

Laumann,  E.  M.  :  La  machinerie  au  theatre,  depuis  les  Grecs  jusqu'd, 
nos  jours.    Paris,  1897. 
Unfortunately  the  book  is  not  very  detailed  or  accurate. 

GiNiSTY,  Paul:  La  Vie  d'un  theatre.    Paris,  1898. 

Populeu-  description  of  the  technical  side. 

Appia,  Adolphe:  Die  Musik  und  die  Inscenierung.   Munich,  1899. 
The  book  that  began  the  revolution  in  scenic  art. 

Dawson,  C.  E.:  Pastel  Painting  and  Scene  Painting.    London, 

1900. 
Aderer,  Adolphe  :  Le  Congrks  de  Vart  theatral  (Exposition  univer- 

selle,  1900).     Compte  rendu  des  seances.     Paris,  1902. 

Title  is  larger  than  the  book. 

Ferrari,  G.:  La  scenographia.     Cerni  storici.     Milan,  190a. 
Contains  many  costume  plates. 

Hagemann,  Carl:   Regie.    Studien  zur  dramat.  Kunst.     Berlin, 

1902. 
Vitroux,   Georges:    Le    Theatre  de   Vavenir.     Mise   en   scene, 

trues,  decors.     Paris,  1903. 

A  strange  but  suggestive  book. 

Mantzius,  Karl:    History  of  Theatrical  Art.     7  vols.     London, 
1903. 

The  best  book  of  ita  kind  that  has  so  far  appeared.  Needed  for  constant 
reference. 

Hagemann,  C:  Schauspielkunst  und  Schauspielkiinstler.     Beitriige 
zur  Asthetik  des  Theaters.     Berlin,  1903.     2d  ed.  1910. 


320  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIII 

Hagemann,  Carl:  Die  Kunst  der  szen.  Darstellung.   Berlin,  igo^. 
Kaulfuss-Diesch,  C.  H.  :  Die  Inscenierung  des  deutschen  Dramas 

an  der  Ende  des  sechzehnten  and  siebzehnten  Jahrhunderts.  igoS. 
GrOLDiN,  H.:  Stage  Represeniation.    Comprising  Bioscopic  effects. 

London,  igoS. 
ViTZTHUM  VON  EcKSTAEDT,  CouNT  B.  E.:  EntwHrfe  fur  Szenen 

KosUime  und  Theater  dekorationen,  von  E.  G.  Craig.    Dresden, 

IQOS. 

Cohen,  Gustave:  Histoire  de  la  mise  en  scene  dans  le  ihedire  reli- 
gieuxfranQais  du  Moyen-Age.     Paris,  1906. 
Interesting  and  valuable  work. 

Fitzgerald,  Percy:   Shakespearean  Representation,  its  laws  and 
limits.    London,  1908. 
Not  important. 

Vaulabelle,  a.  de,  and  Hemardinquer,  Ch.:    La  Science  au 
theatre.    Paris,  1908. 
Out  of  date  —  but  contains  interesting  material. 

Hannsen,    Hanns:     Beitrdge   z.    Technik   d.    BiihnenregiekunsL 
Leipzig,  1908. 
On  the  technical  aspects  of  producing. 

Seche,  a.,  and  Bertaut,  J.:  UEvolution  du  theatre  coniemporain. 
Paris,  1908. 

Critical  rather  than  practical,  but  included  here  for  its  study  of  ideas. 
FucHS,  Georg  :  Die  Revolution  des  Theaters.     Munich  and  Leipzig, 

An  important  book  on  the  principles  of  the  new  movement. 
Nansouty,  Max  de:  Les  trues  du  theatre,  du  cirque  et  de  lafoire. 
Paris,  1909. 
Amusing  but  not  important. 

Erler,  Fritz:   Aussiellung  der  Biihnenentwiirfe  {Faust,  Hamlet). 

Munich,  1909. 

Erler's  work  is  valuable.     It  is  reviewed  in  "  Mercure  de  France,"  Feb.  i, 
1910. 

Legband,  Paul:  Dos  deutsche  Theater  in  Berlin.    Munich,  1909. 
A  symposium  on  the  work  of  this  theatre. 


PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART  321 

Alt,  Theodor:    Das  "  Kiinstlertheater"    Kritik  der  modemen 
Stilbewegg.  in  der  Buhnenkunst.     Heidelberg,  1909. 

LiTTMANN,  Max:   Dcls  Kiinstler-Theaier.    Munich,  1909. 
A  description  of  the  new  movement  in  Munich.     Valuable. 

Wauer,  W.:  Die  Kunst  im  Theater.     Berlin,  1909. 
Meyerkhold:  Contribution  a  Vhistoire  et  a  la  technique  da  theatre. 

Paris,  n.  d. 
UArt  et  la  vie:  Publ.  by  Komiloff,  Moscow,  n.  d. 
Stuart,  Donald  Clive:  Stage  Decoration  in  France  in  the  Middle 

Ages.    New  York,  1910. 

RoucHE,  Jacques:  UArt  thedtral  moderne.    Paris,  19 10. 

A  valuable  summary  of  the  new  scene  designers  from  Appia  to  Gordon 
Craig.     Illustrated.     Contains  a  chapter  on  the  Moscow  Art  Theatre. 

Wedekind,  F.:   Schauspielkunst.     Ein  Glossarium.     1910. 
Gray,  J.  H.:   The  Roman  Theatre.     1910. 
Frisch,  Ejtraim:  Von  der  Kunst  des  Theaters.    Munich,  19 10. 
GiNisTRY,  Paul:  La  Feerie.    Illus.    Paris,  1910. 
Frankenberg,  Egb.  von:   Die  geistigen  Grundlagen  der  Theater- 

kunst.    Weimar,  1910. 
CoQUiOT,  G.:    Nouveau  Manuel  du  peintre-decorateur  du  theatre. 

Paris,  1 910.     In  Encyclopedie-Roret.     5o  designs. 
Bab,  Julius:  Der  Mensch  auf  der  Biihne.    Eine  Dramaturgie  fUr 

Schauspieler.    3  vols.     19 10. 
Wild,    F.:     Handbuch   fiir    Festspielbesucher    des    Prinzregenten 

Theater.    Munich,  19 10. 
Jacobsohn,  Siegfried:    Max  Reinhardt.    Beriin,  19 10. 

The  best  work,  so  far,  on  the  German  producer. 

Craig,  E.  Gordon:  On  the  Art  of  the  Theatre.    Chicago,  1911. 

Indispensable  for  its  numerous  ideas. 

Maskelyne,  Nevil  and  Devant,  David:  Our  Magic.    New  York, 

1911. 
Graffigny,  de  H.:  Decors  et  pantomimes  pour  un  theatre  Guignol. 

3d  ed.    Paris,  191 1. 

Lighting,  tricks,  plans,  and  sketches.     Small  manual. 


322  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIII 

FucHS,  Georg:  Die  Sezession  in  der  dramatischen  Kunst  und  das 

Volksfestspiel.    Munich,  191 1. 
Lepel,  VoLLRATH  von:   VoFschldge  zur  Theaterreform.     191 1. 
Savits,  Jocza :  Der  Schauspieler  und  das  Puhlikum.    Munich,  191 1. 
SvETLOw,  v.,  and  Bakst,  L.:    Le  Ballet  contemporain.    Transl. 

from  Russian  into  French  by  Dr.  Calvacoressi.    Paris,  19 12. 

lUus. 

An  elaborate  and  costly  book  on  the  Bakst  school. 

Planer,  Ernst:  Moderne  Biihnenkunsi.     191 1. 
Of  sUght  value. 

Zarel,  E.:  Moderne  Biihnenkunsi.     191 1.    Illus. 
Not  detaUed. 

Amundsen,  Gerhart:  Die  neue  Skakespearehuhne  des  Miincheners 

Hof theaters.    Fully  illustrated  from  the  Munich  Shakespeau-e 

productions.    Munich,  191 1. 
Gerhauser,  Emil:    Die  Losung  des  modernen    Theaterproblems 

durch  das   neue  patentierte  System   des  Architekten    August 

Zeh-Solln.     Illus.     Munich,  191 1. 
Lawrence,  W.  J. :    The  Elizabethan  Playhouse  and  Other  Studies. 

Stratford-on-Avon,  191 2.     Illus.     Bibliography. 

P.  99,  The  Mounting  of  the  Carolan  Masques;    p.  iii.  The  Story  of  a 
Pecmiar  Stage  Curtain;  p.  76,  Music  and  Song  in  the  Elizabethan  Theatre. 

GoLDSTON,  W.:  Stage  Illusions.     London,  191 2. 
Blaize,  Jean:  Pour  monter  etjouer  une  piece.     Paris,  1912. 
A  small  manual  for  amateurs. 

Alherty,  Max:  Moderne  Regie.    Ein  Buch  fiir  Theaterfreunde. 

Frankfort,  191 2. 
Lepel,  Vollrath  von:    Anleitung  zur  Herstellung  v.  Szenarien 

u.  Regiebiichern.    Also  known  as  Hofling's  Theaterhandbucher, 

1912. 

Little  books  on  every  possible  practical  aspect  of  modern  staging  and 
producing. 

Craig,  Gordon:  Towards  a  New  Theatre.    London,  1918.    Forty 
designs. 
Indispensable  for  its  scene  designs. 


ARTICLES  ON  PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART      323 

Kruger,  Max:   Uher  Biihne  u.  hildende  Kunst.     Munich,  1912. 
Walser,  Karl:  Das  Theater.    Buhnenhilder  and  KosiiXme.     Text 

by  Oskar  Bie.     Colored  illus.     Berlin,  191 2. 
LoHMEYER,   Walther:    Die  Dramalurgie  der  Massen.     Berlin, 

igiS.     Bibliography. 

An  exceptionally  interesting  book. 

Browne,  Van  D.:  Secrets  of  Scene  Painting  and  Stage  Effects. 
Lx)ndon,  igiS. 

Not  an  important  book. 

Palmer,  J.:   The  Theatre  of  the  Future.    London,  19 13. 

Buckley,  Reginald  R.:  The  Shakespeare  Revival.  A  book  on 
the  Stratford  movement,  with  articles  by  Mary  Neal  and 
Arthur  Hutchinson,  and  an  introduction  by  F.  R.  Benson. 
lUus.     Stratford-on-Avon,  igiS. 

Grundy,  S.  :  The  Play  of  the  Future.     London,  igi^- 

Carter,  H.:  Theatre  of  Max  Reinhardt.     London,  1914. 

Sell,  H.  B.:  What  Is  It  All  About?  A  sketch  of  the  new  move- 
ment in  the  theatre.     19 14-     Pamphlet. 

Biihnen  Beleuchtung  System  Fortuny.     Pub.  by  Allgemeine  Elek- 
tricitats  Gesellschaft,  Berlin. 
A  full  and  technical  account  of  the  Fortuny  lighting  system. 

Das  Theater  der  F'unftausend.     Munich. 

Detailed  accounts  of  the  invention  of  a  new  theatre  auditorium. 


XIV 

ARTICLES  FROM    PERIODICALS,  ON    PRODUCTION 
AND    SCENIC  ART. 

Bourdon,  G.  :  Staging  in  the  French  and  English  Theatres.  Fort- 
nightly, 77:  i5^,  1901. 

Singer,  Hans  W.:  Modern  Stage  Art  in  Germany.  International 
Studio,  3o:  244-7,  J*">-  J9^7- 


324  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIV 

Singer,  Hans  W.:   Stage  Mounting  in  Germany.    International 

Studio,  82:  219-28,  Sept.  1907. 
Carric,  a.:   Old  Prints  of  Venice  and  Rome  for  Scene  Painters' 

Inspiration.     Mask,  i:  16-17,  April,  1908. 
Scenery  of  S.  Serlio.    Mask,  i :  i4-20.  Mar.  1908. 
Craig,  GtORDon:    Scene  designs  (pictures).    Mask,  i:  i,  April 

1908,  and  following  issues. 
Anon.:   Unique  Theatre  in  Vicenza.     Theatre,  7:  2^2,  Sept.  1908. 
Anon.:    Comparison  of  Shakespeare  Production  in  England  and 

Germany.     Shakespeare    and    the    modern    German    stage. 

Living  Age,  262:  195-208,  July  24,  1909. 
Lees,  Dorothy  N.:    Arena  Goldonif  Florence.    Its  history  and 

Gordon  Craig's  plans  for  its  future.  Mask,  2 :  28-88,  July,  1909. 
Anon.:  Ancient  and  Modern  Art  in  the  Drama.    Acad.  77:875-7, 

July  81,  1909. 
Kingston,  Gertrude  :  Things  Theatrical  in  Germany  and  England 

Compared.     19th  Century,  66:  990-1007,  Dec.  1909. 
Neuberger,  a.:    Modern  Stage   Illumination.     Sci.  Am.  S.  69: 

244-5,  April  16,  1 9 10. 
Trench,  H.:    Dramatic  Values  and  a  Suggested  Solution.     Sat. 

Rev.  109:  8i5-i6,  June  25,  1910. 
Anon.:   Theatre  Reform  of  Gordon  Craig.    Mask,  8:  29-80,  July, 

1910. 
Craig,  GtORDon:  Essentials  of  Stage  Scenery.    Mask,  8:  i4,  July, 

1910. 
Shaw,  G.  B.:  Dramatic  Values  05  Suggested  by  Mr.  Trench.    Sat. 

Rev.  no:  i8-i4,  July  2,  1910. 
Trench,  H.:   Shakespeare  and  Modern  Staging.    Sat.  Rev.  no: 

19S-9,  Aug.  18,  1910. 
Anon.:    The  Limits  of  Stage  Illusion.    Blackwood's,  188:  55i-6, 

Oct.  1910. 
Anon.:  Fortuny  System  of  Stage  Lighting.    111.  London  News,  187: 

6i4,  Oct.  22,  1910. 
Terry,  Ellen:  Some  Ideas  on  Stage  Decoration.    McClure's,  86: 

288-94.  Jan.  191 1. 


ARTICLES  ON  PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART      325 

Dodge,  W.    P.:    The   New    Theatres    Turn-table   Stage.     Tech. 

World,  i4:  697-9,  Feb.  191 1. 
Kitchen,  K.  K.:  Revolution  in  Sixige  Scenery.    Theatre,  i3:  ii3, 

VIII,  April,  191 1. 
Cramp,  H.:    Social  Theories  and  Art  in  Modern  Drama.    Poet 

Lore,  22:  i4i-5,  Mar.- April,  191 1. 
Stoker,  B.:   Henry  Irving  and  Stage  Lighting.     19th  Cent.  4ii: 

9o3-i2,  May,  1911. 
Anon.:     The    Stage  of    the  Future.     Acad.  80:  664,  May  27, 

1911. 
Urban,  F.  :  Scene  Designs.    Some  early  Italian  woodcuts.     Mask, 

4:  47-56,  July  191 1. 
Anon.:    The  Reproduction  of  a  Mediaeval  Play.    World  To-day, 

21:  io38,  Sept.  191 1. 
Anon.:    Secessionist  Movement  in  Dramatic  Art.     Cur.  Lit.  5i: 

3ii-i5,  Sept.  191 1. 
Anon.:    Commedia  delV  Arte  —  Staging  a  Scenario.     Mask,   4: 

ii3-i5,  Oct.  1911. 
Anon.:    Actors   Extinguished  by   Scenery.     Lit.    D.    43:   672-5, 

Oct.  7, 191 1. 
Yeats,  W.  B.:  Theatre  of  Beauty.    Harp.  W.  55,  Nov.  191 1. 
Moulton,  R.  H.  :  Production  of  Scenery  and  Accessories  for  Modern 

Plays.    Tech.  Worid,  16:  571-9,  Jan.  1912. 
IvANHOF,  v.:    The  Theatre  of  the  Future.    Elng.  Rev.  10:  634-5o, 

Mar.  1912. 
Eaton,   W.   P.:    The  New  Stagecraft.     Am.   Mag.    74:  io4-i3. 

May,  1912. 
Craig,  Gordon:    The  Painter  in  the  Theatre.     Mask,  5:  37-43, 

July,  1912. 
Craig,    Gordon:    Scene   Designs  for   Hamlet.     Spectator,    109: 

4o8,  Sept.  21,  1912. 
Ricketts,  C:   Stage  Decoration.    Fortnightly  Rev.  97:  1083-92, 

Dec.  1912. 
Gardenwitz,  a.:    Scene  Painting.      Sci.  Am.,  107:348-9,  355, 

Oct.  26,  1912. 


326  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIV 

Hunt,  Euzabeth:   Scenery  to  Illustrate  Action.    Drama,  No.  8: 

i53-62,  Nov.  1912. 
The  Gordon  Craig  School  for  the  Art  of  the  Theatre.    Mask,  5:  igS-S, 

Jan.  iQiS.    Mask,  5:  217-20,  Jan.  igiS.    Mask,  5:  287-8, 

Apr.  iQiS.    Dial,  54:  33i,  April  16,  igiS. 
Craig,   Gordon:     The   Theatre  as  Distinguished  from   Drama. 

English  Review,  i3: 440-3,  Jan.  1913. 
Anon.:  A  New  Vision  of  the  Future  Theatre.    Current  Opinion,  54: 

120-1,  Feb.  1913. 
Carric,  a.:  The  Modern  Theatre.    Mask,  5:  367-8,  April,  i9i3. 
BiCKLEY,  F. :   The  Modern  Artificial  or  Decorative  Spirit.     British 

Rev.  3:  92-102,  July,  i9i3. 
Pierce,  Lucy  F.  :    The  Seagull  Theatre  (^Moscow  Art  Theater]. 

Drama,  No.  11:   127-37,  Aug.  i9i3. 
CouRNOS,  J.:  Gordon  Craig  and  the  Theatre  of  the  Future.    Poetry 

and  Drama,  i:  334-4o,  Sept.  I9i3. 
Urban,  F.:  Architecture  of  a  Fifteenth  Century  Theatre.    Mask,  6: 

101-7,  Oct.  1913. 
Anon.:  New  Scenic  Art.     Current  Opinion,  55:  25i-2,  Oct.  i9i3. 
Anon.:    Work  of  Leon  Bakst.     Lit.  Dig.  47:  io64-5,  Nov.  29, 

1913. 
SiORDET,   G.   C:    Work  of  Leon  Bakst.     International  Studio, 

5i :  3-6,  Nov.  i9i3. 
BiRNBAUM,  Martin:   Leon  Bakst.     New  York,  1913.     Pamphlet 

with  portrait. 
Marriott,  E.:    The  Theatre  in  Warsaw.    Mask,  6:  252-5,  Jan. 

1914. 
Tevis,  May:  Scenic  Art  of  Leon  Bakst.    Theatre,  19:  11-12,  Jan. 

1914. 
Blake,  W.  B.:   Theatre  and  Beauty.    Independent,  77:  271,  Feb. 

23,  1914. 
Pollock,  A. :  Illumination  and  its  Effect  on  Drama.    Drama,  No. 

i3:  93-109,  Feb.  i9i4- 
Meyer,  Annie  H.:    Art  of  Leon  Bakst.    Art   and  Progress,  5: 

i6i-5.  Mar.  1914. 


ARTICLES  ON  PRODUCTION  AND  SCENIC  ART      327 

Keith,  W.  G.  :  Designs  for  the  First  Marble  Scenery  on  the  English 
Public  Stage.  Burlington  Magazine,  25:  29-33,  Apr.  igiA, 
and  following  issue. 

Anon.:  New  Stage  Mechanics  Exhibited  in  London.  Musical 
Courier,  68:  Apr.  29,  1914. 

Porter,  Charlotte:  M.  Fortunes  New  Lighting  Methods. 
Drama,  No.  i4;  292-301,  May,  1914. 

D'AuvERGNE,  J.:  The  Moscow  Art  Theatre.  Fortnightly  Review, 
100:  793-8o3,  May,  i9i4- 

Anon.:  Savoy  Theatre  Decorations  by  Norman  Wilkinson.  Inter- 
national Studio,  52:  3oi-6,  June,  igi^- 

Semar,  J.:  Architectural  Designs  of  Padre  Pozzo  (17th  cent.). 
Mask,  7:  39-52,  July,  1914. 

Anon.:  A  New  Art  of  Stage  Decoration.  Current  Opinion,  57: 
3o-i,  July,  1914. 

Uzzell,  T.  H.:  Imperial  Alexander  Theatre,  Petrograd.  Theatre, 
20:  21-2,  /4i,  July,  1914. 

Carter,  H.  :  Dramatizing  the  Theatre.  Forum  52 :  60-g,  July,  igiA- 

Anon.  :  Rural  Theatricals.  Experiment  of  the  North  Dakota  Agri- 
cultural College.     Survey,  32:  4o8.    July  18,  1914. 

Stevens,  T.  W.  :  The  Laboratory  Theatre  of  the  Carnegie  Institute 
of  Technology.     Play  Book,  2:  16-18,  Aug.  igiA- 

Dickinson,  T.  H,:  Recent  Tendencies  in  Theatre  Building.  Play 
Book,  2:  2^-31,  Aug.  IQl^. 

Porter,  Charlotte:  The  Stage  Art  of  G.  Fuchs.  Drama,  No. 
i5:  A69-70,  Aug.  191/i. 

La  Faroe,  C.  G.  :  Decorative  Scenery  —  Granville  Barker's  Pro- 
duction of  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.  New  Republic, 
2:  i56,  March  i3,  igiS. 

Matthews,  Brander:  Evolution  of  Scene  Painting.  Scribner's. 
Mag.  58:  82-^4,  July,  I9i5. 

Anon.:  Granville  Barker,  the  New  Art  of  the  Theatre  and  the  New 
Drama.     Rev.  of  Reviews,  5i:  498-5oi,  April,  igiS. 

Van  Vechten,  C:  Adolph  Appia  and  Gordon  Craig.  Forum,  54: 
483-7,  Oct.  1 91 5. 


328  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XV 

XV 

ELIZABETHAN  PLATFORM  STAGE 

Delius,  N.:    tjber  das  Englische  Theatenuesen  zu  Shakespeares 

ZeU.    Bremen,  i85g. 
Elze,  K.:  Eine  Auffiihrung  im  Globe-Theater.    Weimar,  1878. 
Symonds,  J.  A. :  Shakespeare's  Predecessors  in  the  English  Drama. 

London,  1881. 
Archer,  W.:   A  Sixteenth-century  Playhouse.     In  the  Universal 

Review,  vol.  I,  p.  281,  May-August,  1888. 
Ordish,  T.  F.:   Early  London  Theatres.    London,  1894- 
Collins,  J.  F. :   The  Predecessors  of  Shakespeare.    In  Essays  and 

Studies.     London,  1895. 
BuLTHAUPT,  H.  A. :  Dramaturgie  des  Schauspiels.  Shakespeare.  6th 

ed.    Oldenburg,  1898. 
BiNZ,  G.:  Londoner  Theater  und  Schauspiele  im  Jahre  1599.     In 

Anglia,  vol.  XXII  (N.  F.  vol.  X),  p.  -456.     1899. 
Brodmeier,  C.:  Die  Shakespeare-Biihne  nach  den  alten  Biihnenan- 

weisungen.    Weimar.     1904. 
Mantzius,  Karl:   The  History  of  Theatrical  Art.    London,  190^- 

1909. 
Stephenson,  H.  T,  :  Shakespeare's  London.    New  York,  1906. 
Reynolds,  G.  F.:    Some  Principles  of  Elizabethan  Staging.     In 

Mod.  Philology,  vol.  II,  pp.  58i-6i4;  and  vol.  Ill,  pp.  69-97. 

April  and  June,  1906. 
Wegener,    R.:     Die    Biihneneinrichtung    des    Shakespeareschen 

Theaters.     Halle,  1907. 
Reynolds,  G.  F.:  "  Trees"  on  the  Stage  of  Shakespeare.    In  Mod. 

Philology,  vol.  V,  No.  2,  pp.  i53-i68,  Oct.  1907. 
Poel,  W.:  Letter  on  Elizabethan  Acting.     In  the  Tribune,  London, 

Oct.  10,  1907. 
ScHELLiNG,  F.  E. :  Elizabethan  Drama,  ib^^i^k'i'    2  vols.    1908. 


ELIZABETHAN  PLATFORM  STAGE  329 

Archer,  W.:   The  Elizabethan  Stage.     In  The  Quarterly  Review, 

No.  4i5,  p.  442,  April,  1908. 
Albright,  V.  E.:  The  Shakespearian  Stage.    New  York,  1909. 
Chambers,  E.  K.:    The  Stage  of  the  Globe.    In  Shakespeare's 

works,  vol.  10.     London,  1910. 
Brooke,  C.  F.  Tucker:   The  Tudor  Drama.    New  York,  191 1. 
Lawrence,  W.  J. :  The  Elizabethan  Playhouse.    Stratford-on-Avon, 

1912. 

An  excellent  book.     Includes  also  Restoration  theatres. 

A  Scale  Model  of  the  Fortune  Theatre.     In  Arch.  Review,  vol.  3i, 

pp.  53-55,  1912. 
Poel,  W.:  Shakespeare  in  the  Theatre.    London,  1913. 

Mr.  Poel  is  a  practical  authority  on  E^zabethan  staging. 

Stopes,  Mrs.  C.  C.  :  Burbage  and  Shakespeare's  Stage.     London, 

1913. 
Graves,  Thornton  Shirley:   The  Court  and  the  London  Theatres 

during  the  Reign  of  Elizabeth.     Menasha,  Wisconsin,  1913. 
Savits,  Jocza:    Von  der  Absicht  des  Dramas.    Munich. 

A  defence  of  the  non-scenic  Shakespeare. 

Thorndike,  Ashley,  T.:  Shakespeare's  Theater.  New  York,  191 6. 
See  also  the  extensive  bibliographies  in  the  Cambridge  History  of 
Modern  Literature. 

XVI 

ACTING 

The  professional  discussion  of  acting  has  centered  about  the  ques- 
tion, "  Does  the  actor  feel  the  actual  emotions  he  represents,  or 
does  he  only  simulate  them?  "  Such  an  argument  is  of  purely 
academic  interest  to  a  community  drama  worker  who  desires 
at  most  some  technical  hints  which  will  assist  his  amateurs 
to  grasp  the  elementary  principles  of  speaking  lines.  The 
following  bibliography  therefore  contains  a  few  books  grouped 
by  themselves  which  are  of  practical  value.     For  the  con- 


330  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVI 

venience  of  the  director,  however,  who  ought  to  familiarize 
himself  with  an  extended  study  of  the  theories  of  acting, 
a  longer  Ust  covering  some  of  the  more  important  books  has 
been  added. 

Shakespeare,  William:  Hamlet,  Act  III,  sc.  2, 11.  i-5o. 

When  examined  with  an  understanding  of  the  full  force  of  the  words, 
Hamlet's  advice  to  the  players  still  remains  the  best  compendium  of  the 

6Ul. 

Pollock,  Walter  Herries:    The  Paradox  of  Acting,  translated 

with  annotations  from  Diderot's  Paradoxe  sur  le  Comedien. 

With  a  preface  by  Henry  Irving,  London,  i883. 

This  is  a  useful  popular  examination  of  Diderot's  paradox  that  the  actor 
expresses  emotion  best  when  he  does  not  feel  it. 

Cook,  Dutton:  On  the  Stage.    2  vols.    London,  i883. 

See  vol.  I,  chaps.  I,  III,  VIII,  XI,  and  XIII.  This  book  is  more  useful 
than  any  of  the  professed  treatises  on  the  subject. 

Garcia,  Gustave:  The  Actor  s  Art.  A  practical  treatise  on  stage 
declamation,  public  speaking,  and  deportment.  2d  ed. 
London,  li. 


It  contains  all  the  defects  and  many  of  the  merits  of  the  professional 
manual. 

Hammerton,  J.  A.:   The  Actor  s  Art.    London,  1897. 
A  typical  example  of  the  text-books. 

Campbell,  H.  :  Voice,  Speech  and  Gesture.    London.     1904. 

More  modem  and  hence  more  valuable. 

Filippi,  Rosina:   Hints  to  Speakers  and  Players.     London,  1913. 

The  best  recent  work.     Miss  Filippi  is  successful  in  her  methods  of  train- 
ing. 

Books  prepared  for  Amateurs 

Pollock,    Walter    Herries,    and    Lady    Pollock:     Amateur 
Theatricals.     London,  1879. 
General  suggestions.     Old-fashioned. 

Dakin,  Henry  J. :  The  Stage  in  the  Drawing  Room.    London,  n.  d. 
[1882]. 
It  contains  a  few  useful  hints. 


ACTING  331 

Neil,  C.  L.:  Amateur  Theatricals.     London,  igo^. 

BuLLiVANT,  C.  H.:    The  Drawing  Room  Entertainer.      London, 

These  four  books  contain  advice  on  costume,  make-up,  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  small  indoor  stages,  the  preparation  of  scenery,  etc.  They  are 
of  little  practical  importance  to  the  director  but  might  prove  helpful  to 
his  actors. 

Anon.  :  The  Amateur  s  Hand-fxx)k.    A  guide  to  home  theatricals. 

S.  French,  New  York,  1910. 
Taylor,  Emerson:  Practical  Stage  Directing  for  Amateurs.   New 

York,  1 91 6. 

Gesture  and  Pose 

Stebbins,    G.:     Delsarte    System    of   Expression.     New    York, 

1886. 
Morgan,  k.:  An  Hour  with  Delsarte.    A  study  of  expression. 

Boston,  1889. 
Giraudet:  Mimique.    Physiognomic  et  Gestes  aprks  le  Systeme  de 

Delsarte.    Paris,  1895. 

These  books  contain  exercises  of  value  to  novices. 

Wendlandt,  0.  J. :  Living  Statuary.    How  it  mav  be  produced  by 
amateurs.     Manchester,  1896. 

The  Art  of  Make-up 

Fox,  C.  H.:    The  Art  of  Making  up.    London,  1892. 

Lynn,  R.  A.  N.:  Lynn's  Practical  Hints  on  Making-up.     London, 
1892. 

Hagermann,     M.:      Hagermann's     Make-up    Book.      Chicago, 
1808. 

Painter:   Turner  s  Complete  Guide  to  Theatrical  Make-up.     Lon- 
don, 1898. 

Fitzgerald,  S.  J.  A.:  How  to  '"Make-up."     A  practical  guide  for 
amateurs.     London,  ipo2. 

Young,  J.:  Making-up.     New  York,  1906. 

Morton,  C.  :  The  Art  of  Theatrical  Make-up.     London,  1909. 

In  addition  many  of  the  books  on  acting  contain  chapters  on  muke-up. 


332  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVI 


General  List  of  Books  on  Acting 

This  bibliography  does  not  aim  to  be  exhaustive ;  its  object  rather 
is  to  suggest  the  better  known  books  in  the  field.  In  addi- 
tion much  material  concerning  acting  will  be  found  in  theat- 
rical memoirs,  diaries,  and  reminiscences. 

OvERBURY,  Sir  Thomas:    The  Character  of  a  Perfect  Actor,  in 

"  Characters." 

Riccx)BONi,  LuiGi:   DeW  Arte  Rappreseniativa.    London,  1725. 

RiccoBONi,  LuiGi:  Pensees  sur  la  Declamation.    Paris,  lySS. 

These  contein  an  early  exposition  of  the  emotional  principle  of  acting 
elaborated  into  a  theory  of  the  art. 

Sainte-Albene,  Remard  de:   Le  Comedien.    Paris,  1747. 

His  theory  rests  upon  emotion.  It  is  the  basis  of  two  or  three  subse- 
quent works.     (See  below.) 

RiccoBONi,  FRANgois:  UArt  du  Theatre.    Paris,  1750. 

Francois  disagrees  with  his  father,  Luigi.  An  actor  should  not  feel 
the  emotion  he  expresses.     (See  above.) 

Hill  [Aaron?  —  Sm  John?  —  John?]:    The  Actor.    A  treatise 

on  the  art  of  playing.     London,  1760. 

The  authorship  of  this  adaptation  of  Sainte-Albine  (see  above)  was  at- 
tributed to  Aaron  Hill.  Lowe,  p.  2,  assigns  it  to  "Sir  John  Hill."  The 
British  Museum  catalogue  notes  "by  J.  Hill,  M.  D.,  calling  himself 
Sir  John  Hill."     Reprinted  in  1765  with  added  anecdotes. 

Lloyd,   Robert:     The  Actor.    A   poem   addressed   to   Bonnell 

Thornton,  Esq.     London,  4th  ed.,  1764. 
DoRAT,  J.   C:    La  Declamation   Thedtrale.    Poeme  didactique. 

Paris,  1766. 
SncoTTi,  Antonio  Fabio:  Garrick,  ou  les  Acteurs  Anglois.    Paris, 

1769. 

An  adaptation  of  "The  Actor  "  (see  above)  back  into  French  once  more. 

Engel:  Idees  sur  le  geste  et  V action  theatrale.     Paris,  1788. 

Anon.:  The  New  Thespian  Oracle.  Containing  original  strictures 
on  oratory  and  acting.     London,  1791. 

Anon.  :  The  Theatrical  Speaker.  An  elucidation  of  the  whole  sci- 
ence of  acting.    London,  1807. 


ACTING  333 

Anon.:  The  Thespian  Preceptor.  A  full  display  of  the  scenic 
art,  including  ample  and  easy  instructions  for  treading  the 
stage,  using  proper  action,  modulating  the  voice,  and  express- 
ing the  several  dramatic  passions  ...     London,  1811. 

Anot^.:  An  Essay  on  the  Art  of  Acting.     Epistle  I.     London,  1 819. 

Anon.  :  The  Actor,  or.  Guide  to  the  Stage.     Exemplifying  the  whole 
art  of  acting.     London,  182 1. 
A  condensation  of  "The  Actor,"  ed.  of  lyBS.     (See  above.) 

Bernier,  F.:    Theorie  de  Vart  du  comedien.     Paris,  1826. 
CGrant,  G?!]  :  An  Essay  on  the  Science  of  Acting,  by  a  Veteran  Stager. 

London,  1828. 

A  rambling,  discursive  book,  of  no  value  save  for  its  anecdotes. 

Anon.:    The  Art  of  Acting;   or.  Guide  to  the  Stage,  in  which  the 

dramatic  passions  are  defined,  analyzed,  and  made  easy  of 

acquirement.     New  York,  n.  d.  ^i8553. 
Lewes,  George  Henry  :  On  Actors  and  the  Art  of  Acting.   London, 

1875. 

A  much  quoted  work.     Chap.  X,  On  Natural  Acting,  is  suggestive. 

CoQUEON,  C.:  UArt  et  le  Comedien.    Paris,  1880.     ist.  Am.  ed. 
Boston,  1881. 
See  the  Eng.  transl.  in  Publ.  Columbia  University  Dramatic  Museum, 

IQiS. 

Talma,  F.  J.:    The  Actor's  Art.    London,  i883. 

See  the  reprint  in  Publ.  Columbia  University  Dramatic  Museum,  igi5. 

HoussAYE,  Arsene:  La  Comedienne.    Paris,  i884. 

Fitzgerald,  Percy:    The  Art  of  the  Stage,  as  set  out  in  Charles 

Lamb's  Dramatic  Essays,  with  a  commentary.     London,  i885. 

See  pp.  aii2-a55  on  acting  and  Hamlet's  advice  to  the  players. 

Archer,  William:   Masks  or  Faces?    London,  1888. 

A  historical  study  of  the  controversy  concerning  emotion  rersus  intel- 
lect in  acting,  supported  by  a  wealth  of  citations  from  theatrical  memoirs 
together  with  bibliographical  notes.  The  foundation  work  for  any  exami- 
nation of  the  literature  of  acting. 

Monrose,  E.:  Causeries  sur  CArt  du  Theatre.     Brussels,  1888. 
Adams,  F.  A.  F. :  Gesture  and  Pantomimic  Action.  New  York,  i8qi. 
Dupont-Vernon,  H.:   Diseurs  et  comediens.     Paris,  i8qi. 


334  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVI 

Fitzgerald,  Percy:   The  Art  of  Acting.    London,  1892. 

Often  quoted  by  writers  on  the  stage. 

MacLaughlin,  E.  L.  :  Handy  Book  upon  Elocution  and  Dramatic 

Art.    London,  1892. 
Irving,  Henry:   The  Drama.    Four  addresses.    New  York,  n.  d. 

C1892]. 

The  second  and  fourth  address  are  on  the  art  of  acting.     Excellent. 

Lambert,  A.:   Sur  les  planches.    Paris,  1894. 
Ayres,  Alfred:   Acting  and  Actors,  Elocution  and  Elocutionists. 
A  book  about  theater  folk  and  the  theater  art.     New  York, 

1894. 

Too  much  elocution. 

Corlette,  C.  M.:    Universal  Theatrical  Stage  Tutor  and  Guide. 
Manchester,  1897. 
A  catch-penny  handbook. 

Smtthson,  D.  J.:    Elocution  and  Dramatic  Art.     London,  1897. 
Gregori,  F.r  Das  Schaffen  des  Schauspielers.     Berlin,  1899. 
Martersteig,  M.  :  Der  Schauspieler.    Ein  kiinstlerisches  Problem. 

Leipzig,  1900. 
RocHAS  d'Aiglun,  a  de:  Les  Sentiments,  la  Musique,  et  le  Geste. 

Grenoble,  1900. 

AuBERT,  C:    UArt  Mimique.    Paris,   1901. 

Symons,  Arthur:  Plays,  Acting,  and  Music.     London,  1908. 

See  p.  23,  The  Speaking  of  Verse;  p.  78,  Music,  Staging,  and  Some  Acting; 
p.  84,  The  Test  of  the  Actor;  p.  i65.  On  Crossing  Stage  to  Right; 
p.  73,  The  Price  of  Reahsm.  These  are  a  stimulating  series  of  brief 
essays. 

Kerr,  Alfred:  Schauspielkunst.    Berlin,  1904. 

Excellent. 

Irving,  Sir  Henry:  Occasional  Papers.    London,  1906. 

See  on  Art  and  the  Status  of  the  Actor,  and  on  Colley  Gibber's  Apology. 

Balfour-Browive,  J.  H.:    The  Art  of  Acting.     In  his  Essays, 

Critical  and  PoUtical,  vol.  I,  pp.  265-77.     London,  1907. 

Walkley,  a.  B.:  Drama  and  Life.     New  York,  1908. 

See  p.  100,  The  Art  of  Acting.  An  interesting  analysis  of  a  magazine 
article  by  Sir  Herbert  Beerbohm  Tree  on  "How  to  Act." 


ACTING  335 

Sutherland,  A.  C:    Dramatic  Elocution  and  Action.     London, 

1908. 
O'Connor,  J.  E.:  Chapters  in  the  History  of  Actors  and  Acting  in 

Ancient  Greece.     Chicago. 
Hasluck,  S.  L.,  and  A. :    The  Elements  of  Elocution  and  Gesture. 

London,  1908. 
Bremont,  Leon:  UArt  de  dire  et  le  theatre.    Paris,  1908. 
Harvey,  J.  Martin:    Character  and  the  Actor,     London,   1908. 

Publications  of  Ethnological  Society. 

Worth  careful  attention. 

Lawson,  Robb:    The  Psychology  of  Acting.     In  the  Fortnightly, 

N.  S.  vol.  85  (vol.  90),  pp.  499-5i3.     London,  1909. 
Berger,  Alfred  von:  Meine  hamburgische  Dramaturgic.     Vienna, 

1910. 
Mackay,  F.  F.:    The  Art  of  Acting.     Embracing  the  analysis  of 

expression  and  its  application  to  dramatic  literature.     New 

York,  1 9 10. 

Pretentious  but  somewhat  verbose. 

KuTSCHER,  Arthur:    Die  Ausdruckkunst  der  Biihne.     Grundriss 
und  Bausteine  zum  neuen  Theater.     Leipzig,  19 10. 
Important  because  of  its  application  of  the  principles  of  the  new  staffing. 

Thumser,  Karl:   Vom  Dasein  des  Schauspieles.     Leipzig,  1910. 
Savits,  Jocza:  Der  Schauspieler  und  das  Publikum.     Munich,  n,  d. 

[1910]. 

Savits  is  one  of  the  important  leaders  of  the  new  movement. 

Armstrong,  C.  F. :   The  Actors  Companion.     Introduction  by 
Arthur  Bouchier.     London,  n.  d. 
Conventional.     A.rm.stronK  has  Inrn  an  actor  and  pubUsher'a  reader. 

Fry,   Emma  Sheridan:  Educational  Dramatics.     A  handbook  on 
the  educational  player  method.     New  York,  I9i3. 
Of  value  to  school  teachers  and  directors  of  sch<x)l  dramatics. 

Angus,  J.  Keith:   Amateur  Acting.     London,  1913. 
Matthews,  Brander:    On  Acting.     New  York,  1914. 
A  brief  essay  —  literary  rather  than  practical. 


336  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVII 

Gillette,  Wiluam:  The  Illusion  of  the  First  Time  in  Acting. 
With  an  introduction  by  George  Arliss.  Publ,  I  of  the  Dra- 
matic Museum  of  Columbia  University,  191 5. 

CoQUELiN,  Constant:  Art  and  the  Actor.  Transl.  by  Abby 
Langdon  Alger.  With  an  introduction  by  Henry  James. 
Publ.  II  of  the  Dramatic  Museum  of  Columbia  University, 
1915. 

The  first  half  of  this  essay  is  of  particular  value  to  students  of  acting. 

Jenkin,  H.  C.  Fleeming:  Mrs.  Siddons  as  Lady  Macbeth  and  as 
Queen  Katharine.    With  an  introduction  by  Brander  Mat- 
thews.    Publ.  Ill  of  the  Dramatic  Museum  of  Columbia 
University,  191 5. 
The  critique  contains  sound  theory  of  the  actor's  art  in  general. 

Talma:   Reflections  on  the  Actor  s  Art.    With  an  introduction  by 
Sir  Henry  Irving,  and  a  review  by  H.  C.  Fleeming  Jenkin. 
Publ.  IV  of  the  Dramatic  Museum  of  Columbia  University, 
1915. 
Talma's  essay  on  acting  is  probably  the  best  analytical  study  of  this  art. 

Acting  at  the  Paris  Conservatoire  [jClassic  Methods^ 

Leymaire,  L.  de,  et  Bernheim,  A.:  U Enseignement  dramatique 
au  Conservatoire.     Paris,  1886. 

Solly,  J.  R. :  Acting  and  the  Art  of  Speech  at  the  Paris  Conserva- 
toire.   London,  1891. 

Pierre,  C.  :  Les  anciennes  ecoles  de  declamation  dramatique.  Paris, 
1895. 

XVII 

PANTOMIME 

Weaver,  John:  History  of  the  Mimes  and  Pantomimes.     1728. 
NoJAC,  R.  de:  Petit  Traite  de  Pantomime.    Paris,  1887. 
HouGOUNET,  Paul:  Mimes  et  Pierrots.    Paris,  1889. 
HuGOUNET,  Paul:    La  Musique  et  la  Pantomime.    Paris,  1892. 


PANTOMIME  337 


Albert,  Charles:  Pantomimes  modernes.    Paris,  1896. 
Pericaud,  Louis:  Le  Theatre  desfunambules,  ses  mimes,  ses  acieurs, 

et  ses  pantomimes    .  .  .  Paris,    1897. 
Adams,  Florence  A.:    Gesture  and  Pantomimic  Action.    New 

York,  1891.     Illustrated. 
Schoemaker,  R.  H.  :  Delsartean  Pantomimes.    Philadelphia,  1898. 
Broadbent,  R.  a.:    A  History  of  Pantomime.    London,   1901. 

One  of  the  few  books  available  on  this  subject. 

Albert,  Charles:  L'Art  mimique,  suivi  d'un  iraite  de  la  pantomime 
et  du  ballet.     Paris,  1901.     200  plates. 

Driesen,  Otto:  Der  Ursprung  des  Harlekin,  ein  Kulturge- 
schichtliches  Problem.    Berlin,  1904. 

Symons,  Arthur:  Pantomime  and  the  Poetic  Drama.  In  Studies 
in  Seven  Arts.     1907. 

Bronner,  Milton:  The  Cult  of  Pierrot.  In  Poet  Lore,  Boston, 
1908,  vol.  19,  pp.  3i8-33i. 

Delitzsch,  Friedrich:  Sardanapol.  Grosse  historische  Panto- 
mime in  3  Akten  oder  4  Bildern,  unter  Anlehrung  an  das 
gleichnamige  Ballett  Paul  Taglionis,  neu  bearbeitet  von  F. 
Delitsch.  Musikahsche  Begleitung  .  .  .  von  Joseph  Schlar. 
Begleitende  Dichtung  von  Joseph  Lauff,  Berlin,  1909. 

Has  the  advantage  that  the  accompanying  music  and  verse  may  be  com- 
pared with  the  pantomime  action. 

Freksa,  Friedrich:   Regiebuch  zu  Sumurdn;   eine  Pantomime  in 
neun  Bildern  nach  orientalischen  Mdrchenmotiven.    Musik  von 
V.  Hollander.     Berlin,  n.  d.  [1910.3 
The  prompt-book  for  the  Reinhardt  production. 

Le  Roux,  and  Dubour,  G.  de:  La  Houssalka,  ballet-pantomime  en 
deux  actes.     Musique  de  L.  Lambert.     Paris,  191 1. 

Foster,  Frances  A.:  Dumb  Show  in  Elizabethan  Drama  before 
1620.     In  Englische  Studien,  v.  44,  p.  8-17.     Leipzig,  1911. 

A  number  of  old  French  pantomime  texts  are  listed  in  M.  de 
Soleinne's  Biblioth^ue  Dramatique  in  vol.  V  under  books 
"relatifs  au  theatre." 


338  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVIII 


XVIII 

COSTUME 

It  is  difficult  to  prepare  anything  approaching  an  adequate  bib- 
Hography  on  Costume.  Racinet's  Le  Costume  Historique 
contains,  however,  a  detailed  selection  of  books.  There  are 
only  a  few  statisfactory  books  on  this  subject  among  the  hun- 
dreds of  titles.  It  is  better  to  go  direct  to  contemporary 
painting,  statuary,  tapestries,  etc.,  for  costume  data.  For 
American  Indian  costumes,  see  the  publications  of  the  Smith- 
sonian.    The  following  list  is  restricted  to  standard  works. 

Greece 

Smith,  J.  M.:    Ancient  Greek  Female  Costume.    London,   1882. 

112  plates. 
Studniczka,  F.:  Beitrdge  zur  Geschichte  der  altgriechischen  Tracht. 

Vienna,  1886. 
Evans,  Lady  M.  M.:    Chapters  on  Greek  Dress.     London,  iSgS. 

lUus.     Bibliography. 
Abrahams,  E.  B.  :  Greek  Dress.     A  study  of  the  costumes  worn  in 

ancient  Greece.     London,  1908.     Illus.    Plates  and  diagrams. 

These  four  books  are  all  useful. 

BiEBER,  M. :  Das  Dresdener  Schauspielerrelief.  Ein  Beitrag  zur 
Geschichte  des  tragischen  Kostums  und  der  griechischen 
Kunst.    Bonn,  1907.     Diss. 

Rome 

Frohlich,  F.  :  Die  Mode  im  alten  Rom.    Basel,  i885. 
Saunders,  Catherine  :  Costume  in  Roman  Comedy.    New  York, 
1909.    Bibliography. 


COSTUME  339 


Costume  General 

Vecellio,  Cesare:    Habiti  antichi  e  moderni  di  tulto  il  mondo. 
Venice,  new  ed.,  iSgS. 
5o6  woodcuts  by  Titian's  brother. 

Lavacher  de  Charnois:  Recherches  sur  les  costumes  et  sur  les 
theatres  de  toutes  les  nations  tant  anciennes  que  modernes.  ist 
ed.  2  vols.,  Paris,  1790.     56  plates.     2d  ed.  1802. 

KoEHLER,  Karl:  Die  Trachten  der  Volker  in  Bild  und  Schnitt. 
3  vols.    Dresden,  1871-73. 

Amman,  Jost:  The  Theatre  of  Women.  (Orig.  ed.  i586.)  Man- 
chester, 1872.     Publ.  of  Holbein  Society. 

Rosenberg,   C.  A.    Geschichte  des  Kostiims.    Berlin,  1906. 

Rhead,  G.:  Chats  on  Costume.     New  York,  1906. 

Lacy,  Thomas  H.:  Female  Costume,  Historical,  National,  and 
Dramatic.     London,     200  plates. 

Mack  AY,  Constance  D'Arcy  :  Costumes  and  Scenery  for  Amateurs. 
New  York,  191 5. 
A  useful  handbook,  although  the  costume  designs  are  conventional. 

French's  Costumes;  Dramatic,  National,  and  Historical.  1  vols. 
New  York,  n.  d. 

Shakespeare  and  Theatrical 

Macklin:  Illustrations  to  Shakespeare's  Plays.     London,  1792. 

Planche,  J.  R.:  Costume  of  Shakespeare's  Hamlet,  Othello,  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,  Henry  IV,  and  As  You  Like  II.  Selected  and 
arranged  from  the  best  authorities.  70  hand-colored  plates, 
with  description. 

Boocke,  R.  L.  :  Shakespearean  Costumes.  Illustrations  of  charac- 
ters in  each  play.     London,  1889. 

Aria,  E.:  Costume,  Fanciful,  Historical,  and  Theatrical.     London, 
1906. 
With  colored  illustrations  (many  Shakc8fH*arean)  by  Percy  Anderson. 


340  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVIII 


England. 

Strutt,  Joseph:  A  Complete  View  of  the  Dress  and  Habits  of  the 
People  of  England.    2  vols.,  new  ed.,  by  J.  R.  Plemche. 
London,  1842. 
G)ntains  i43  valuable  plates. 

Martin,  Charles:  The  Civil  Costume  in  England  from  the  Conquest 
to  the  Present  Time.    London,  1842. 
Ck)ntain8  61  colored  plates. 

Planche,  J.  R.:  British  Costume.     London,  1846.     Illus. 
Fairholt,  Frederick  William:    Satirical  Songs  and  Poems  on 

Costume:  from  the  13th  to  the  19th  century.     London,  1849. 

Publ.  Percy  Society. 

A  mine  of  interesting,  amusing,  and  valuable  information  on  English 
costume. 

Meyrick,  S.  R.:    Engraved  Illustrations  of  Ancient  Arms  and 
Armour.     2  vols.  Reprinted.     London.,  i854. 
A  collection  of  i5o  large  plates,  with  a  brief  descriptive  text. 

Shaw,  Henry  :  Dresses  and  Decorations  of  the  Middle  Ages.     2  vols. 

Reprinted.    London,  i858. 

Contains  94  useful  colored  plates  and  128  woodcuts.     Furniture  and  deco- 
rations are  also  included. 

Planche,  J.  R.:  A  Cyclopaedia  of  Costume.    Including  a  general 
history  of  costumes.     2  vols.     London,  1876-79.    New  ed., 
Bohn's  Artist's  Library,  1907. 
A  standard  work  elaborately  illustrated. 

ScHiLD,  M.:   Old  English  Costumes.    London,  i883. 

Fairholt,  F.  W.:    Costume  in  England.    A  history  of  dress. 

3d  ed.,  by  H.  A.  Dillon.    2  vols.    London,  i885. 

One  of  the  best  works  on  this  subject.    Vol.  2  is  a  glossary. 

HiLL,  Georgiana:  A  History  of  English  Dress.    2  vols.    London, 
1893. 
A  popular  handbook. 


COSTUME  341 


Holding,  T.  H.:   Uniforms  of  the  British  Army,  Navy,  and  Court. 

London,  189^. 
Gardiner,  F.  M.  :  The  Evolution  of  Fashion.    London,  1897. 
ScHiLD,  M.:   English  Peasant  Costumes  from  Boadicea  to  Queen 

Victoria.    London,  1898. 

Valu6ible  for  folk-dance  costuming. 

Druitt,  H.:    Manual  of  Costume  as  Illustrated  by  Monumental 
Brasses.     London,  1906. 
Brasses  are  em  excellent  costume  source. 

Calthrop,  D.  C:  English  Costume.    4  vols.    London,  1906. 
The  best  work  on  this  subject.     Illus. 

Clinch,  G.  :  English  Costume  from  Prehistoric  Times  to  the  End 
of  the  Eighteenth  Century.    Antiquary's  Books  series.     London, 

1909- 

A  convenient  emd  accurate  manual. 

AsHDOWN,  Emily  J.:  British  Costume  during  Nineteen  Centuries 
(civil  and  ecclesiastical).     London,  1910. 
459  engravings,  no  plates,  g  colored  reproductions. 

Webb,  W.  M.:  Heritage  of  Dress.     London,  1912. 

Old  English  Costumes.    Talbot  Hughes  Collection.     London,  1918. 

Price,  J.  M.:  Dcune  Fashion.    London,  1913. 

Scotland 

North,  C.  N.  MacL:   A  Record  of  the  Dress  of  the  Highlanders. 

2  vols.     London,  1881. 
Anon.:    The  Scottish  Clans  and  their  Tartans.     Edinburgh,  1892. 
Stuart,  J.  S.  and  C.  E.:  Costume  of  the  Clans.     Edinburgh,  1892. 

France 

Racinet,  a.:   Le  Costume  hislorique.     6  vols.     Paris,  1876-1888. 
Contains  Boo  plates. 
An  elaborate  standard  work.    Bibliography.    Costumes  of  all  nations. 

Demay,  Germain:    Le  Costume  au  moyen-dge  daprks  les  sceaux. 
Paris,  1880. 


342  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XVIII 

JuLLiEN,  Adolphe  [pseud.  of  Jean  Lucien  Adolphe]:  Histoire 
da  costume  au  ihedtre  depuis  les  origines  du  theatre  en  France 
jusqu'd,  nos  jours.    Paris,  1880.    24  plates,  some  colored. 

Challamel,  J.  B.  M.  A.:  La  toilette  des  femmes  depuis  Vepoque 
gallo-romaine.  Paris,  1881.  Eng.  transl.  by  Mrs.  Cashel 
Hoey  and  Mrs.  John  Lillie.     2  vols.     London. 

Grevin,  A.:  Costumes  de  theatre.  Paris,  188 1.  Continued  annu- 
ally. 

MoNVAL,  Georges:  Le  Costume  a  la  Comedie  Frangaise.  Pjuis, 
1884.     i5o  plates  in  color. 

RiCHAPU),  J. :  UArmee  frangaise  par  E.  Detaille.  2  vols.  Paris, 
188&-89. 

Anon.  :  Directoire  and  First  Empire  Dress.     London,  1889. 

Renan,  a.:  Le  Costume  en  France.    Paris,  1890. 

UzANNE,  0.:  Les  Modes  de  Paris.  1 797-1897.  Paris,  1898. 
Eng.  transl.  London,  1898. 

Allinson,  a.:  Days  of  the  Directoire.     London,  1910. 

Germany 
HoTTENROTH,   F.:    Handbuch  der  deutschen    Tracht.     Stuttgart, 

1898-96. 
Anon.  :  Die  Uniformen  der  Deutschen  Armee.    Leipzig,  1897. 
HoiTENROTH,  F. :    Dcutsche  Volkstrachten  vom  XVI  Jahrhundert 

an   bis   zum   Anfange   des   XIX  Jahrhunderts.    Frankfort, 

1898- 1902. 

One  of  the  most  elaborate  of  the  German  standard  works. 

Zur  Geschichte  der  Kostiime:  nach  Zeichnungen  von  Diez,  Froh- 
lich,  Haberlin,  Heil,  Rothbart,  Walter.     Munich. 
An  elaborate  and  accurate  work. 

Spiess,  Karl:   Die  deutschen  Volkstrachten.    Leipzig,  191 1. 
342  illustrations  and  a  bibliography. 

The  United  States 
Walton,  William:  The  Army  and  Navy  of  the  United  States,  from 
the  period  of  the  Revolution  to  the  present  day.     Boston,  1 889-96. 
Issued  in  twelve  sections. 


COSTUME  343 


Earle,  Alice  M.  :  Costume  of  Colonial  Times.    New  York,  iSgA- 

Leonard,  G.  C:   The  Cap  and  Gown  in  America.    Albany,  1896. 

Carr,  Lucien:  Dress  and  Ornaments  of  Certain  American  Indians. 

Worcester,    1897.     Proc.    Amer.    Antiq,    Soc.    vol.    II,    pp. 

381-454. 
GuMMERE,  A.  M. :  The  Quaker.    A  study  in  costume.    Philadelphia, 

1901. 
Earle,  Alice  M.:  Tux)  Centuries  of  Costume  in  America.    2  vols. 

New  York,  igoS. 

lUus.     Plates  and  portraits. 

MacClellan,  Elizabeth:  Historic  Dress  in  America,  1 607-1800. 
Philadelphia,  igo^-  Vol.  II,  1800-1870.  Philadelphia,  1910. 
Plates  £uul  bibliography. 

Heraldry 

Papworth,  J.  W.:   An  Alphabetical  Dictionary  of  Coats  of  Arms 
belonging  to  families  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland.     2  vols. 
London,  [i8583-74- 
A  valuable  work. 

Elvin,  C.  N.:  Dictionary  of  Heraldry.     London  [18893. 
A  valuable  work. 

Woodward,  John,  and  Burnett,  George:  A  Treatise  on  Heraldry, 
British  and  Foreign.     2  vols.,  Edinburgh,  1892. 
The  most  exhaustive  treatise  on  English  heraldry. 

Woodward,  John:   A  Treatise  on  Ecclesiastical  Heraldry.     Edin- 
burgh, 1894. 
Useful  in  its  field. 

BoNTELL,  Charles:    A  Manual  of  Heraldry.    London,  6th  ed. 
1899.     45o  illustrations. 
The  best  handbook  of  English  heraldry. 


344  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XIX 


XIX 

COLOR 

The  following  books  were  used  by  the  authors  in  preparing  the 
chapter  on  color.     This  list  is  in  no  sense  a  bibliography  of  the 
subject. 
Hay,  D.  R.:   The  Principles  of  Beauty  in  Colouring  Systematized. 
Edinburgh,  i845. 
The  color  scales  are  theoretical  but  quite  useful. 

Wilkinson,  J.  Gardner:  On  Colour.    London,  i858. 
Numerous  tables  of  harmonies  and  discords. 

Chevreul,  M.  Z.:    The  Principles  of  Harmony  and  Contrast  of 

Colors.    Transl.  Charles  Martel.    3d  ed.  iSBg. 

A  standard  work.     Planned  on  a  practical  basis,  but  theoretical  in 
its  results. 

RusKiN,  John:   The  Elements  of  Drawing.    New  York,  iSSg. 
Suggestive  —  sometimes  too  plausible. 

Goethe:   Theory  of  Colours.    Eastlake's  translation. 

Taine,  H.  a.:   Lectures  on  Art.     Transl.  John  Durand,  3d  ed. 

New  York,  1875. 
Crane,  Lucy:  Art  and  the  Formation  of  Taste. 
Bracquemond,  Felix:  Du  dessin  et  de  la  couleur.    Paris,  i885. 
Crane,  Walter:   The  Claims  of  Decorative  Art.    Boston,  1892. 
Ward,  James:   Historic  Ornament.     2  vols.    New  York,  1897. 
Church,  A.  H.:    Colour.    An  elementfuy  manual  for  students. 

New  ed.    London,  1897. 
Crane,  Walter:  Line  and  Form.    London,  1900. 
Barber,  F.  Louis:    Binary  Combinations  of  Tints  and  Shades 

Among    Themselves   and  with   One  Another.    University   of 

Toronto  Studies,  Psychological  Series.    Toronto,  1907. 

An  elaborate  and  valuable  scientific  study  of  the  emotional  effects  of 
colors. 


THE  DANCE  345 


Babbitt,  Irving:   The  New  Laokoon.    Boston,  1910. 
See  p.  lyafT.  on  color-audition. 

Raymond,  G.  L.  :   The  Essentials  of  JEsihetics. 

A  useful  elementary  text-book. 

Clement,  C.  E.:  Handbook  of  Legendary  and  Mythological  Art. 

HuLME,  F.  Edward:   Symbolism  in  Christian  Art.    6th  ed.  Lon- 
don, 1910. 

RiDWAY,    Robert:     Color   Standards    and   Color    Nomenclature. 
Washington,  D.  C,  191 2. 
Fifty-three  colored  plates  and  eleven  hundred  and  fifteen  named  colors. 

XX 

THE  DANCE 

Arbeau,  Thoinet  Q)seud.  of  the  monk  Jehan  Tabourot]:  Orche- 

sographie.   ist  ed.  i588.  Reprinted,  and  ed.  by  Feuillet,  Paris 

1 70 1.    Another  ed.  with  an  essay  on  the  dance  of  the  i6th 

century  by  Laure  Fonta,  Paris,  1888. 
BoissART,  Robert:  Mascarades  recueillies  et  mises  en  iaille-douce. 

ibgj. 
Favyn,  A.:  Le  Thedtre  d'honneur  et  de  chevalerie.    Paris,  1620. 
MiiNESTRiER,  C:   Des  ballets  anciens  et  modernes  selon  les  regies 

du  thedtre.     Paris,  1682. 
Weaver,  John:    An  Essay  towards  an  History  of  Dancing  .  .  . 

containing  the  several  sorts  of  dancing,  antique  and  modern, 

serious,  scenical,  grotesque.  .  .  .  London,  1712. 
Cahusac,  L.  de:   La  danse  ancienne  et  moderne,  ou  un  traite  his- 

torique  de  la  danse.  Eng.  transl.  i854.  ist  ed.  The  Hague. 
Noverre,  M.  de:  Lettres  sur  la  danse  et  sur  les  ballets.  Lyon,  1760. 
DuPLAiN,    GuiMARD,    OU    Vurt   de    la    danse- paniomime.    Poem. 

Paris,  1783.     A  pamphlet. 
Compan:    Dictionnaire  de  danse,  contenanl  fhisloire,  les  rhgles  et 

les  principes  de  eel  art.  .  .  .  Paris,  1787. 


346  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XX 

CzERwmsKi,  A.:  Geschichte  der  Tanzkunsi.     i8o3. 

Baron,  A.:  La  danse  ancienne,  moderne,  religieuse,  civile,  et  thea- 

irale.    Paris,  1824. 
Blasis,  C:   Code  complet  de  la  danse  .  .  .  suivi  de  nouveaux  airs 

de  danse.    Paris,  i83o. 
Blaze,  F.  H.  J.:    La  danse  et  les  ballets  depuis  Bacchus  jusqu'a 

Mademoiselle  Taglioni.    Paris,  i832. 
Catlev,  George:  Manners  and  Customs  of  the  American  Indians. 

London,  i84i. 
CzERWiNSKi,  Ajlbert:  Geschichte  der  Tanzkunst  bei  den  cultivirten 

Volkern  von  den  ersten  Anfdngen  bis  auf  die  gegenwdrtige  Zeit. 

Vienna,  1862. 
Celler,  Ludovic:   Le  Ballet  de  la  reine  et  les  origines  de  V opera 

au  XV r  siecle.     Paris,  1868. 
Lacroix,  Paul:  Ballets  et  mascarades  de  la  cow,  1581-1682.  6  vols. 

Geneva,  1868-70. 
BucHHOLTZ,  Hermann:   Die  Tanzkunst  des  Euripides.    Leipzig, 

1871. 
Flach,  H.:  Der  Tanz  bei  den  Griechen.    Berlin,  1880. 
Blasis,  C.  :  Notes  upon  Dancing.    Transl.  by  R.  Barton,  London, 

1847.     French  ed.  r'p't'd.  in    Librairie  Encylopedique   de 

Doret.    Paris,  181 4- 
BoHME,  Franz  H.  :  Geschichte  des  Tanzes  in  Deulschland.     2  vols. 

Leipzig,  1886. 
Vestris,  D.:    Les  danses  d! autrefois,  de   la  pavane  a  la  gawUe. 

Paris,  1889. 
Bernay,  Mlle.  Berthe:  La  danse  au  theatre.    Paris,  1890. 
GoLT,  C:  Old  Familiar  Dances  with  Figures.    Boston,  1890. 
Kldson,  Frank:    Old  English  Country  Dances.    London,   1890. 

Music  bibliography. 
GmAUDET,  E.:  Traite  de  la  danse.    Paris,  1890.     5oo  illustrations. 

Vol.  II,  1900. 
Desserat,   G.:    Dictionnaire  de  la  danse,  historique,   theorique, 

pratique,  et  bibliographique  depuis  Vorigine  jusqua  nos  jours. 

Paris,  1895. 


THE  DANCE  347 


Glen,  J.:  The  Glen  Collection  of  Scottish  Dance  Music,  Strathspeys, 

Reels,  and  Jigs.  .  .  Edinburgh,  1891-1896,  2  vols. 
Grove,  Mrs,  Lilly:  Dancing  .  .  .  with  musical  examples.    The 

Badminton  Library  of  Sports  and  Pastimes.     Illus.  London, 

1895. 
Emmanuel,  M.:   La  danse  grecque  antique  d'apres  les  monuments 

figures  .  .  .  analyses  chronophotographiques  obtenues  avec  les 

appareils  de  Marey.     Illus.    Paris,  1896. 
Scott,  EIdward:  Dancing  as  Art  and  Pastime.    London,  1897. 
VuiLLER,    Gaston:     History   of   Dancing.    From    the    French. 

London,  1898.     Fr.  ed.  1897. 
Scott,  EIdward:  Dancing  in  all  Ages.    London,  1899. 
Brown,  James  Duff:    Characteristic  Songs  and  Dances  of  all 

Nations.     Ed.  with  historical  notes  and  a  bibliography.    The 

music  arranged  for  the  pianoforte.     London,  1901. 
Brown,  Baldwin:  The  Fine  Arts.    New  York,  1901. 
HoFER,  Marie:  Old  and  New  Singing  Games.     Chicago,  1901. 
HoFER,  Marie  :  Popular  Folk  Games  and  Dances.     Chicago,  1901 . 
Storck,  K.:  Der  Tanz.    Leipzig,  1903. 
Banes,  A.:   Au  temps  des  reverences.    Danses  anciennes.    Paris, 

1903. 
2jORN,  Friedrich  Albert:  Gram.mar  of  the  Art  of  Dancing,  Theo- 
retical and  Practical.     Lessons  in  the  art  of  dancing  and 

dance-writing    (choregraphy).     Music,    etc.     Transl.   A.   J. 

Sheafe,  Boston,  1906.     Orig.  Ger.  ed.  pub.  1887. 
Meril,  F.  de:  Histoire  de  la  danse  a  travers  les  ages.    Paris,  n.  d. 

C1906?]  Illus. 
St.  Johnston,  Beginald:  A  History  of  Dancing.    London,  1906. 

Illus.    Small  bibliog. 
Bie,  0.:  Der  Tanz.     Berlin,  1906. 
B^dier,  G.:  Les  plus  anciennes  danses  fran^aises.     Bevue  des 

Deux  Mondes,  Jan.  i5,  1906. 
AuBRY,  Pierre  [pseud,  of  Louis  Francois  Pierre]:   Estampies  et 

danses  royales,  les  plus  anciens  textes  de  musique  instrumenlale 

au  moyen  &ge.     Paris,  1907. 


348  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XX 

Holt,  Arden:  How  to  Dance  the  Revived  Ancient  Dances.    London, 

1907.    Illus. 
Ktmmttvs,  G.  T.,  and  Woolworth,  M.  H.:   Guild  of  Play  Book  of 

Festival  and  Dance.    2  vols.     London,  1907. 
KiMMiNS,  G.  T. :  Guild  of  Play  Book  of  National  Dances.    Vol.  3. 

London,  1907. 

These  two  books  are  excellent. 

AxxAN,  M.:  My  Life  and  Dancing.    London,  1908. 

BuBCHENAL,  ELIZABETH:  Folk-donccs  and  Singing  Games.  Twenty- 
six  folk-dances  of  Norway,  Sweden,  Denmark,  Russia,  Bo- 
hemia, Hungary,  Italy,  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  with 
the  music,  full  directions  for  performances,  and  numerous 
illustrations.     New  York,  1909. 

HiNCKS,  Marcelle  Azra:  Representations  of  Dancing  on  Early 
Greek  Vases.  Illus.  In  Revue  Archeol.  Paris,  1909.  Ser.  4. 
vol.  i4,  pp.  351-369. 

d'EIeisky,  F.  a.:  Les  Danses  antiques  grecques  el  romaines.     Paris, 

1909- 
BuRCHENAL,    ELIZABETH:    Danccs   of  the   People.     New  York, 

1909- 
Shabp,  Cecil:  The  Country  Dance  Book.     London,  1909. 
ScHUR,  Ernst:   Der  moderne  Tanz.     Miinchen,  1910.     Illus. 
HiNCKS,  Marcelle  Azra:   The  Japanese  Dance.    London,  1910. 

lUus. 
Ajas,  a.:   Traite  pratique  de  la  danse  donnant  la  technique  detaillee^ 

mise  a  la  portee  de  tous.     Paris,  1910.     Illus. 
Brower,  Josephine:   The  Morris  Dance.     New  York,  1910. 
GuLiCK,  Luther  H.:   The  Healthful  Art  of  Dancing.    New  York, 

1910. 
Schnabel,  H.  :  Kordax;  Archdologische  Studien  zur  Geschichte  eines 

antiken  Tanzes  and  zum  Ursprung  der  griechischen  Komodie. 

Munich,  1910. 
Anon.:    The  Dance.     Historic  illustrations  of  dancing  from  33oo 

B.C.  to  1911  A.D.     By  an  antiquary.     London,  1911.     [The 

"antiquary"  was  J.  Bale.] 


THE  DANCE  349 


Applin,  Arthur:  The  Stories  of  the  Russian  Ballets.    New  York, 

n.  d.  [iQii]. 
Urlin,  Ethel  L.  :  Dancing,  Ancient  and  Modern.    London,  n.  d. 

[1911]- 
Lafitte,  J.  P.:  Les  Danses  d' Isadora  Duncan.     Paris,  191 1. 
Kellermann,  B.:    Sass   Yo   Yassa.    Japanische  Tanze.     Illus. 

Berlin,  191 1. 
Caffin,  Caroliive  S.,  and  Caffin,  C.  H.:   Dancing  and  Dancers 

of  To-day.    The  modern  revival  of  dancing  as  an  art.     New 

York,  191 2.     Illus. 

One  of  the  useful  modem  books  on  this  subject. 

Flitch,  J.  E.  Crawford:  Modern  Dancing  and  Dancers.    London, 

1912. 
GuLiCK,  Luther  H.:    Folk  and  National  Dancing.    New  York. 

Vol.  L     Folk  Dancing,  vol.  IL 
Lincoln,  Jeanette:    Festival  Book.     New  York,  191 2. 
Lincoln,  Jeanette:    Maypole  Possibilities.    Springfield,  Mass., 

1912. 
Sharp,  Cecil:  The  Sword  Dancers  of  Northern  England,  n.  d. 
Dalcroze,  Jacques:   The  Eurythmics  of  Jacques-Dalcroze.     Intro. 

by  M.  E.  Sadler.     Boston,  19 13. 

Almost  the  only  available  work  in  English  on  this  subject. 

Anon,:    Rhythmics  in  Russian  Art.     Literary  Digest,  4?:  378-9, 

Sept.  6,  1913. 
Terry,  Ellen:    The  Russian  Ballet.     With  drawings  by  Pamela 

Colman  Smith.     London,  n.  d.  [19133. 

The  drawings  are  interesting. 

Johnson,  A.  E.:   The  Russian  Ballet.     Illus.  by  R.  Bull.     Boston, 
1913. 

The  storiofl  of  several  of  these  dance  dramas  with  colored  plates. 
The  best  of  the  popular  books. 

BuRCHENAL,  E. :  Danccs  of  the  People.     New  York,  19 13. 
Cornish,    G.   W.:    Greek   Drama  and  the  Dance.     Fortnightly 
Review,  N.  S.  vol.  93:  290-301,  Feb.  1913. 


350  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXI 

Brandenburg,    Hans:     Der   moderne    Tanz.    Miinchen,    igiS. 
lUus. 

The  German  books  are  valuable  chiefly  for  the  illustrations. 

Latte,  K.  :  Z)e  Saltionibus  Grsscorum.     Giessen,  igiS. 

Kinney,  Troy,  and  Kinney,  M.  W.:  The  Dance.    Its  place  in  art 

and  life.    New  York,  igi^-     lUus. 

A  good  general  book,  with  a  few  serious  omissions. 

Rath,  Emil:   Aesthetic  Dancing.    New  York,  igi^-     Illus. 

Technique  only.     The  title  is  slightly  disapp>ointing. 

Chalif,  Louis:    The  Chalif  Text  Book  of  Dancing.    New  York. 
Vol.  I,  1914.    Vol.  2,  1916. 
By  the  foremost  ballet  master  of  New  York. 

KiMMiNS,  G.  T. :  Songs  from  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare  with  Dances. 

New  York,  igiS. 
Neal,  Mary:  Esperance  Morris  Book.    London,  igiS. 

XXI 

SELECTED   BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF   DRAMATIC,  FOLK, 
AND    FESTIVAL   MUSIC 

Hogarth,  G.:   Memoirs  of  the  Opera  in  Italy,  France,  Germany, 

and  England.     2  vols.     London,  i85l. 
Engel,  Carl:  The  Music  of  the  Most  Ancient  Nations,  particularly 

of  the  Assyrians,  Egyptians,  and  Hebrews  .  .  .  London,  186^. 
Chouquet,  Gustave:  Histoire  de  la  musique  dramatique  en  France. 

Paris,  1878. 
Engel,  Carl:  Musical  Instruments.    London,  1875. 
Gevaert,  Franqgis  Auguste:  Histoire  et  theorie  de  la  musique  de 

Vantiquile.     2  vols.     Ghent,  1875-81. 
Edwards,  Henry  S. :  The  Lyrical  Drama.    2  vols.    London,  1 881. 
NuTTTER,  C,  and  Thoinan,  E.:  Les  Origines  de  V opera  frangais. 

Paris,  1886. 
Hansilik,  E.:   The  Beautiful  in  Music.    New  York,  1891. 


DRAMATIC,  FOLK,  AND  FESTIVAL  MUSIC     351 

Spencer,  Herbert:  Essays,  Scientific,  Political,  and  Speculative. 
"Origin  and  Function  of  Music,"  vol.  II,  pp.  400-487.  Lon- 
don, 1892. 

Chappell,  William:  Old  English  Popular  Music.  New  ed.  by 
H.  S.  Woodbridge.    London,  1898. 

RowBOTHAN,  J.  F. :  History  of  Music  to  the  Time  of  the  Troubadours. 
London,  1898. 

Wallaschek,  Richard:  Primitive  Music.  An  enquiry  into  the 
origin  and  development  of  music,  songs,  instruments,  dances, 
and  pantomimes  of  savage  races.  With  musical  examples. 
London,  1898. 

Gardner,  A.:  Songs  of  Scotland,  chronologically  arranged.  Lon- 
don, 1898.    Vol.  II,  1894. 

GrOULD,  S.  Baring:   English  Folk  Songs.    London,  1894. 

Monro,  David  Binning:  The  Modes  of  Ancient  Greek  Music. 
Oxford,  1894. 

Hope,  Robert  Charles:  Mediaeval  Music.    London,  1894. 

CoRDER,  F. :  The  Orchestra  and  How  to  Write  for  It.  New  York, 
1895. 

Krehbiels,  H.  E.:  Folk  Songs  in  America.    New  York,  1896. 

Rolland,  Romain:  Histoire  de  V opera  en  Europe  avant  Lully  ei 
Scarlatti.     Paris,  1895. 

Raymond,  G.  L.:  Rhythm  and  Harmony  in  Poetry  and  Music. 
New  York,  1895. 

Clarke,  Jennie  T.:  Songs  of  the  South.    Philadelphia,  1896. 

Krehbiels,  H.  E.:  How  to  Listen  to  Music.     New  York,  1896. 

Naylor,  Edward  W.:  Shakespeare  and  Music,  with  illustrations 
from  the  music  of  the  16th  and  17Ui  centuries.     London,  1896. 

Sturgis,  Russell,  and  Krehbiels,  H.  E.:  Annotated  Bibliog- 
raphy of  Fine  Arts.     Boston,  1897. 

Lavignac,  Albert:  Music  Dramas  of  Richard  Wagner.  New 
York,  1898. 

Lanier,  Sidney:  Music  and  Poetry.     New  York,  1898. 

Henderson,  W.  G.:  The  Orchestra  and  Orchestral  Music.  New 
York,  1899. 


352  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXI 

Elson,  L.  C.  :  National  Music  of  America  and  lis  Sources.  Boston, 
1900. 

Fletcher,  Alice:  Indian  Stories  and  Songs.    Boston,  1900. 

Elson,  L.  C:  History  of  American  Music.    New  York,  1900. 

Macbean,  L.  :  Songs  and  Hymns  of  the  Gael.    London,  1900. 

Elson,  L.  C:  Shakespeare  in  Music.    Boston,  1901. 

Brown,  James  Duff:  Characteristic  Songs  and  Dances  of  All 
Nations.    London,  1901. 

Mees,  Arthur:  Choirs  and  Choral  Music.    New  York,  1901. 

Elson,  A.:  A  Critical  History  of  the  Opera.    London,  1901. 

Sharp,  CecHj  J.:  Book  of  British  Songs.    London,  1902. 

Dickinson,  Edward:  Music  in  the  History  of  the  Western  Church. 
New  York,  1902. 

Parry,  C.  Hubert  H.:  The  Music  of  the  Seventeenth  Century. 
Oxford,  1902. 

Streatfield,  R.  A.:  The  Opera.    London,  1902. 

Fairclough,  H.:  The  Connection  between  Music  and  Poetry  in 
Early  Greek  Literature.  In  Studies  in  Honor  of  Basil  Gilder- 
sleeve,  1902. 

EIlson,  a.:  Orchestral  Instruments  and  their  Uses.    Boston,  1903. 

HiPKiNS,  A.  J.:  Old  Greek  Music.    London,  1908. 

Mason,  D.  G.,  and  Surette,  T.  W.:  From  Grieg  to  Brahms.  In- 
troduction, "The  Appreciation  of  Music";  Epilogue,  "The 
Meaning  of  Music."    New  York,  1903. 

Nicholson,  S.  H.:  British  Songs  for  British  Boys.    London,  1903. 

Ennis,  L.  M.:  Music  and  Art.    Boston,  1904. 

Groves:  Dictionary  of  Music  and  Musicians.    New  York,  igo^. 
A  comprehensive  treatment  of  all  branches. 

Sharp,  Cecil  J. :   Songs  of  the  West.    Folk  songs  of  Devon  and 

ComwaU.    London,  1905. 
Naylor,  E.  W.:  An  Elizabethan  Virginal  Book.    New  York,  1905. 
Flood,  W.  M.  G.:  Irish  Music.    London,  1906. 
Vincent,  Charles  J. :  Fifty  Shakespeare  Songs.    New  York,  1906. 
Curtis,  N.:   The  Indians'  Book.    New  York,  1907. 
Elson,  A. :  Music  Club  Programs  from  all  Nations.    Boston,  1907. 


DRAMATIC,   FOLK,  AND   FESTIVAL  MUSIC     353 

Glyn,  Margaret  H.:  Rhythmic  Conception  of  Music.    London, 

1907. 
Sharp,  Cecil  J.:  English  Folk-song.    London,  1907. 
AuBRY,  Pierre:    La  rhythmique  musicale  des  troubadours  et  des 

trouveres.    Paris,  1907. 
Sharp,  Cecil  J. :  English  Folk-songs,  from  Somerset.    Folk-songs 

of  Dorsetshire.     Five  series.    London,  1908. 
AuBiN,  Leon:  Le  Drame  lyrique.    Paris,  1908. 
Dickinson,  Edward:  The  Study  of  the  History  of  Music,  with  an 

annotated  guide  to  music  literature.    New  York,  1908. 
Allen,  Percy:  Songs  of  Old  France.    London,  1908. 
Burton,  F.  R.:  American  Primitive  Music,  with  special  reference 

to  the  songs  of  the  Ojihways.    New  York,  1909. 
Mason,  Daniel  Gregory:   The  Orchestral  Instruments  and  What 

They  Do.    New  York,  1909. 
Lavignac,    Albert:     Music   and   Musicians.    Transl.    by   W. 

Marchant.    New  York,  1909. 
Joyce,  P.  W.:  Irish  Folk  Music.    London,  1909. 
Galpin,  Francis:    Old  English  Instruments  of  Music.    London, 

1 910.    BibUography. 
Schlesinger,  K.  :  Instruments  of  the  Modern  Orchestra.    London, 

1910. 
BusoME,  F. :  Sketch  of  the  New  Aesthetic  of  Music.    Transl.  from 

the  German  by  T.  Baker.     New  York,  1911. 
Clappe,  Arthur:    The  Wind  Band  and  its  Instruments.    New 

York,  1911. 
Boughton,  R.,  and  Buckley,  R.  R.:  Music  Drama  of  the  Future. 

London,  1911. 
Parker,  Horatio:   Music  and  Drama.     Boston,  1911. 
O'Neill,   Moira:    Songs  of  the  Glens  of  Antrim.     Edinburgh, 

1912. 
McEiREN,  J.  B.:    Thought  in  Music.     An  Inquiry  into  the  Prin- 
ciples of  Musical  Rhythm,  Phrasing,  and  Expression.    London, 

1912. 
Needham,  M.  M.:  Folk  Festivals.    New  York,  191a. 


354  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXI 

Remington,  Alexander:   Color  and  Music.    Preparatory  notes 

by  Sir  Hubert  von  Herkomer  and  Dr.  W.  Brown.    London, 

1912. 
Anon.:    Early  Elizabethan   Stage  Music   (with   Scores).    Mas. 

Antiquary,  i:  3o-4o,  Oct.  1909:  4:  112-17,  Jan.  1913. 
Cowling,  G.  H.:   Music  on  the  Shakespearean  Stage.    London, 

1913. 
Wood,  Alexander:    The  Physical  Basis  of  Music.    Cambridge, 

1913. 
Foster,  S.  C,  and  others:  Old  Plantation  Melodies.    New  York, 

1913. 
Dykema,    Peter:     Community    Music  —  an    Opportunity.    In 

Journal  of  the  Proceedings  and  Addresses  of  the  National 

Education  Assoc,  of  the  U.  S.  1914.  PP-  627-633. 
Densmore,  F.:  Chippewa  Music.    New  York,  1911.    Pt.  2,  i9i4- 
Forsyth,  C:  Orchestration  of  Music.    London,  1914. 
BuLLEN,  F.  T.,  and  Arnold,  W.  F.  :  Songs  of  Sea  Labour.  London, 

1914. 
Montagu-Nathan,  M.:    History  of  Russian  Music.    London, 

1914. 

XXII 
PASTORAL   DRAMA 
KiEiN,  J.  L.:  Geschichte  des  Dramas.    Leipzig,  1867. 

Vol.  V  deals  with  pastoral  drama. 

Chambers,  E.  K.:  English  Pastorals.     London,  1895. 

Smith,  Homer:   Pastoral  Influence  in  the  English  Drama.     In 
Publ.  of  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  vol.  XII, 
pp.  355-460,  1897. 
Greg  criticizes  the  accuracy  of  detail.     Brief  bibliography. 

Thorndike,  a.  H.:    The  Pastoral  Element  in  English  Drama  be- 
fore 1605.      In  Modern  Language  Notes,  vol.  XIV,  cols. 
228-246.     1899. 
Greg  calls  this  "  a  careful  and  interesting  article." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXII  355 

Marsan,  Jules:  La  Pastorale  dramatique.    Paris,  igoS. 

Greg,  W.  W.:  Pastoral  Poetry  and  Pastoral  Drama.    London, 

1906. 

The  most  important  work  on  this  subject.    Valuable  bibliography. 

Marks,  Jeannette:  English  Pastoral  Drama,  from  the  Restora- 
tion to  the  date  of  the  publication  of  the  "  Lyrical  Ballads  " 
(i  660-1 798). 
Bibliography. 

XXIII 
PAGEANT  TEXTS 

[_The  following  list  is  representative  of  a  few  typical  pageant  books  which  are 

readily  cuxessible.j 

England 
The  Sherboume  Pageant.    L.  N.  Parker,  1907. 
The  Oxford  Historical  Pageant.     1907. 
Bury  St.  Edmunds'  Pageant.     L.  N.  Parker,  1907. 
Book  of  the  Words  and  Music  written  and  composed  for  a  Pageant 

at  Romsey  Abbey.     Romsey,  1907. 
The  St.  Albans'  Pageant.     Souvenir  Book,  1907. 
Gloucestershire  Historical  Pageant.    G.  P.  Hawtrey,  Cheltenham, 

1908. 
Chelsea  Historical  Pageant.     Old  Ranelagh  Gardens.     Chelsea, 

1908. 
Dover  Times'  Book  of  Dover  Pageant  Pictures.     Dover,  1908. 
Pevensey  Hist^jrical  Pageant.     Tunbridge  Wells,  1908. 
Souvenir  and  Book  of  the  Words  of  the  Colchest<'r  Pageant.    L.  N. 

Parker,  Norwich,  1909. 
Book  of  the  English  Church  Pageant.     Fulham  Palace,  I/ondon, 

1909. 
The  Book  of  the  York  Pageant.     York,  1909. 
Historic  and  Heraldic  Guide  to  the  York  Pageant.     York,  1909. 
Chester  Historical  Pageant.     Chester,  19 10. 
B(K>k  of  the  Army  Pageant.     Fulham  I*alace,  I^ondon,  1910. 


356  BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXIII 

The  Book  of  the  Rotherhithe  Church  Pageant.    J.  C.  V.  Durrell, 

IQIO. 

Hertford  Pageant.     Charles  H.  Ashdown.     191 4- 

America 
[^Miscellaneous  examples  of  pageant  lexis"} 
Indoor  pageantry. 

Book  of  the  Words  of  the  Pageant  of  the  Italian  Renaissance. 

T.  W.  Stevens,  Chicago,  1909. 
Pageant  drama. 

The  Bridge  of  the  Gods,  a  Pageant  Drama  of  the  Great 

Northwest.     Mabel  Ferris,  Astoria,  Oregon,  191 1. 
Patriotic  holiday  type. 

Pageant  for  Independence  Day.    T.  W.  Stevens  and  K.  S. 

Goodman,  191 1. 
Historical  type. 

The  Words  of  the  Pageant  of  Philadelphia.    F.  H.  WiUiams, 

1912. 
Festival  drama  on  Robin  Hood  legends. 

Robin  of  Sherwood.    Jack  R.  Crawford,  New  Haven,  Conn., 

1912. 
Lyrical  pageant. 

Daughter  of  Dawn.     Bliss  Carman  and  M.  P.  King,  1918. 
Historical  pageant  of  a  smaller  community. 

Book  of  the  Words  of  the  Pageant  of  Darien.    W.  C.  Langdon, 

1913. 
Combination  of  historical  pageant  and  masque. 

The  Pageant  and  Masque  of  St.  Louis.     T.  W.  Stevens  and 

Percy  Mackaye,  19 14- 
Mediaeval  pageant  intended  for  indoor  production. 

A  Pageant  of  the  Xlllth  Century.    John  Erskine,  Columbia 

University,  i9i4- 
Rural  historical  pageant. 

Pageant  of  the  Machias  Valley,  Maine.     Virginia  Tanner, 

1914. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  XXIII  357 

A  Pageant  of  the  North  West.    University  of  North  Dakota, 

F.  H.  Koch,  1914. 

The  Pageant  of  the  Mohawk  Trail.     Margaret  Maclaren 

Eager,  igi^. 
Industrialism  as  pageant  material. 

The  Romance  of  Work.     Outline  in  program.     Mary  Porter 

Beegle,  1914. 
Historical  pageant  —  indoor  type. 

The  Pageant  of  Elizabeth.    Mary  Porter  Beegle  and  Jack  R. 

Crawford,  igiA- 
Processional  pageant. 

Stonington  Battle   Centennial.     Outline  in  program.     Vir- 
ginia Tanner,  igi/i- 
Masque  on  a  large  scale.    Sliakespeare  Tercentenary  Celebration. 

Caliban  by  the  Yellow  Sands.     Percy  Mackaye,  19 16. 
Amphitheatre  pageant  on  a  large  scale. 

The  Yale  Pageant  Book.    New  Haven,  Conn.    F.  Markoe 

and  group  of  authors,  1916. 


INDEX 


Academe,  grove  of,  65. 

Accessories,  see  Properties. 

Acoustics,  217 

Acting,  102,  Chap.  V,  i35. 

Acting  and  Actor s,  126  note. 

Action,  i3,  19,  56,  58,  67,  79,  82,  86, 

89,  io4,  ii5,  123,  128,  i34-5,  i39, 

aoi,  2o5,  207,  212-16,  224,  23i. 
Actors  and  the  Art  of  Acting,  i23  note. 
Adaptation,  i4,  3o,  note. 
Eneas'  Descent  into  Hades,  3q  note. 
iEschylus,  3,  8. 
Agincourt,  37. 
Aisles,  268-9. 
Aladdin,  102. 
Allegory,   23,   27,   4i-2.   5o,  52,  61, 

63-6,  70,  72,  i54,  201-2. 
Alto,  246. 
Ambulance,  269. 
America,  Pageant  of,  201-2. 
Amphitheatre,  see  also  Production,  29. 
Anachronisms,  59. 
Anthem,  national,  254. 
Antimasque,  4i  note. 
Appia,  Adolph,  75  note. 
Aristotle,  71  note. 
Armor,  see  also  Weapons,  179-80. 
Army  Pageant,  25. 
Art  of  the  Ballet,  196  note. 
Art  and  the  Formation  of  Taste,  i5i 

note. 
Art  of  the  Theatre,  i3a  note,  l3^  note, 

1 44  note. 


Art  thedtrale  moderne,  76  note. 

Arthur,  King,  39,  2o3. 

Articulation,  1 17-18. 

Ashdown,  Charles  H.,  5i  note. 

Assyria,  65. 

Athem'an  tragedy,  see  Drama,  Greek, 

and  Tragedy. 
Atmosphere,  see  Mood  and  Tone. 
Auditors,  financial,  263. 
Ausstellung  der  Biihnenentwiirfe,  i4i 

note. 
Ayres,  Alfred,  126  note. 

B 

Babylonians,  157. 
Bach,  1 37  note. 
Background,  see  Setting. 
Bakst,  Leon,  202. 
Balance,  orchestral,  246-5o. 
Bale,  Bishop  John,  9. 
Ball,  John,  33. 
Ballet,  see  Dance. 
Ballet  ambulatoire,  28. 
Band,  see  Wind  Instruments. 
Bapst,  39  note. 
Barker,  Granville,  71. 
Barry,  i33  note. 
Bass,  246,  248. 
Bass  clarinet,  248,  25o. 
Bass  drum,  249. 
Bassoons,  248,  2.5o. 
Beethoven,  i37  nole. 
Bells,  a5o. 
Bergen,  loi. 


360 


INDEX 


Bible,  1 55,  157. 

Black  Art,  ibj. 

Blue  Bird,  77. 

Borromee,  Cardinal,  28. 

Boxes,  269. 

Brahma,  i54. 

Brangwyn,  Frank,  i43. 

Brass,  see  Wind  Instruments. 

Brieux,  71. 

Britons,  i57. 

Bryn  Mawr  College,  34- 

Budget,  fineincial,  26o-65. 


Cadmus,  65. 

Caesar,  Julius,  20. 

Ctiffin,  ii5  note,  127  note. 

Call  boys,  275-6. 

Cemibrai,  3o  note. 

Canonization,  28. 

Csuiterbury  cathedral,  25. 

Cape  Cod  Pageant,  29  note. 

Carnival,  3o. 

Carrousel,  29. 

Cast,  see  also  Acting,  270-1. 

Cavalcade,  3o. 

Cello,  see  Violoncello. 

Celtic  myths,  see  also  Legends,  2o3. 

Censor,  historical,  44t  270. 

Central  Park,  34  note,  192. 

Centre,  see  Stage,  centre. 

Ceremonial  dance,  see  Dance. 

Ceremonies,    see    also    Dance,    and 

Festivals,  27. 
Chambers,  E.  K.,  35  note. 
Chamfort,  58  note. 
Chance,  67. 
Character    interpretation,    see    also 

Acting,  116,  120-4. 
Character  play,  68. 
Characterization,  57-8,    60-1,    67-9, 

74. 
Chevretd,  M.  Z.,  172  note. 


China,  i55. 

Chinese  music,  243. 

Chorus,  20,  83,   i3o  note,   i36  note, 

i44,  206,  238,  240-1,  252-4. 
Chrestienie  malade,  25  note. 
Christian  art,  i54. 
Christmas,  27,  33,  i58. 
Chronicle-history  play,  37. 
Church,  English,  Pageant,  25,  63. 
Clarinets,  248,  25o. 
Clement,  C.  E.,  i58  note. 
Climax,  54,  57-8,   i23,   i34-5,   198, 

2o4-5,  207-9,  212,  235. 
Cold  colors,  see  Color. 
College  of  New  Jersey,  23. 
College  pageants,  26,  34. 
Colloquialisms,  59. 
Color,  96,  98,   i44.  Chap.  VI,   198, 

2o3,  235,  24 1. 
Color  scale,  see  Color. 
Comedy,  71-2,  77,  81,  97. 
Committee,  see  also  Organization. 

art,  272-3. 

book,  270. 

cast,  270. 

costume,  372-4. 

dance,  271. 

finance,  260,  262. 

general,  256-7. 

grounds,  267-9. 

make-up,  276-7. 

music,  271. 

production,  270. 

properties,  274-5. 

publicity,  264-6,  270, 

rehearsal,  271. 

stage-management,  276-7. 

sub,  258-9. 
Communication   to   My   Friends,    77 

note. 
Compan,  191  note. 
Complementary  colors,  see  Color. 
Composer,  see  Music  director. 


INDEX 


361 


Composition,  pictorial,   79  note,  84, 

io3,  i3o-i46,  i48,  226. 
Concertina,  243. 
G)ncerts,  246. 
Concord,  Mass.,  19. 
Conde,  3o  note. 
Conde,  Prince  de,  29. 
Conflict,  see  also  Drama  technique,  67. 
Continuity,  principle  of,  i45-6. 
Contrabassoon,  248,  260. 
Contrast,    principle  of,    128,    i45-6, 

i53,    i64-5,    167,    171,    2o4,    208, 

2ii-i3,  226-7,  232,  248. 
Contrasting  colors,  see  Color. 
Conventions,  indoor,   94,  96,    101-2, 

io5, 119,  124. 
outdoor,  87-9,  124. 
musical,  243. 
Comets,  249-60. 
Comwallis,  Lord,  i33-4. 
Costume,  i58.  Chap.  VIII, 
Costuming,  102,  i42,  i59,  2o4,  220. 
Craig,  Gordon,  3,  5,  8,  78  note,  i32 

note,  1 36  note,   187  note,  i4i  note, 

1 44  note,  187  and  note,  188. 
Crane,  Lucy,  i5i  note. 
Crane,  Walter,  35  note,  i35,  169  note, 

162  note. 
Credit,  see  Guarantee  fund. 
Crowds,  see  also  Production,  269. 
Crowning  of  Constancy,  89  note. 
Cue,  128,  228,  252-4,  275. 
Curtain,  109,  i85. 
Customs,  village,   see  also  Festivals, 

34,  201. 
Cyclorama,  see  also  Setting,  io4. 
Cymbals,  260. 

D 
Dalcroze,  Jacques,  190  note. 
Dance,  the.  Chap.  IX,  285,  252-3,  266. 
Dance,  ceremonial,  see  Dance,  illus- 
trative, and  Festivals. 


Dance,  director,  62,  2o4-5,  24o. 

drama,  see  Drama,  dance. 

folk,  see  Dance,  and  Festivals. 

illustrative,  199-200,  206. 

interludes,  see  Interludes,  dance. 

intrepretive,  see  Dance. 

plot,  198-9,  224. 

Pyrrhic,  207. 

solo,  1 38,  176,  198,  200,  2i4-i5, 
228-88. 
Declamation,  119. 
Dell  Theatre,  268  note. 
Design,  decorative,  see   also   Setting, 
94-5,  98,  101-8,  i4i-6,  178-4. 

costume,  see  Costume. 
Dialogue,  i3,  19,  53-4,  56,  58-6o,  78, 

76,  loi,  no,  127,  i38,  2o5,  243. 
Dickinson,  T.  H.,  5o  note. 
Diction,  see  Acting,  and  Voice  Pro- 
duction. 
Dictionnaire  de  danse,  191  note. 

de  musique,  118  note. 

du  thedtre,  176  note. 
Dieu  Bleu,  199. 
Dimmers,  in. 
Dionysus,  8. 
Disraeli,  68  note. 
Doctor,  269. 
Doll's  House,  71. 
Don  Csesar  de  Bazan,  79. 
Douai,  80. 

Double  basses,  247,  25o-i. 
Drake,  38. 
Drama,  The,  117  note,   120  note,   121 

note,  1 29  note. 
Drama,  Arcadian,  see  Pastorab. 

dance,  198-9,  201-2. 

Elizabethan,  8. 

folk,  see  also  Festivals,  10. 

Greek.  3.  4.  8,  88,  96.  i36  note, 

284, 286,  242-8. 
Italian,  see  Pastorals. 

oriental,  9. 


362 


INDEX 


Drama,    origins,    see    also    Drama, 
Greek,  Festivals,  Miracle  plays. 
Morality  plays,  8. 
pageant,  86-9. 
pastoral,  see  Pastorals. 

Drama  of  Savage  Peoples,  194  note. 

Drama,  technique  of,  66-74. 

Dramatic,  55,  68,  i65. 

Dreams,  use  of,  28. 

Dress-maker,  see  also  Costume,  278. 

Dressing  tents,  276. 

Drop,  see  also  Cyclorama,  and  Set- 
ting, io4- 

Druidic,  i54. 

Drums,  25o. 

Ducasse,  3o  note. 

Dimcan,  Isadora,  igi,  196. 

Dyeing,  i5g,  161,  i88-4. 


E^ger,  Margaret  Maclaren,  23  rude, 

5 1  note. 
Education,  Pageant  of,  26,  64- 
Education,  pageantry  as  a  form  of, 

see  Pageantry. 
Edwards,  Richard  Henry,  192  note. 
Elements  of  Drawing,  i^^note,  i5i  note. 
Elizabeth,  New  Jersey,  Pageant  of,  28, 

202. 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  20. 
Elizabethan     drama,     see     Drama, 

Elizabethan. 
Ellis,  William  Ashton,  67  note. 
Elocution,    see    Acting,    and    Voice 

Production. 
Elsler,  Fjmny,  195. 
Emphasis,  67,  70-2,  79,  loi,  118-19, 

i65, 226. 
Encores,  254. 
Enghien,  due  df,  29. 
Entrances,   82-8,   85,   87,    107,    109, 

i38,  2o4-5,  2i3-i4,  216,  221, 227-8, 

269,  276. 


Episodes,   edlegorical,   see  also  Alle- 
gory, 27. 
chronological  arrangement  of,  ig. 
dramatic,    52,    55-6,    85-6,    97, 

242. 
epic  or  narrative,  19,  52,  54. 
historical,    24,   49-54,    78,    io5, 

166-8,  266. 
kinetic,   see  also  Grouping,  53, 

184-5. 
static,    see   also    Grouping,    53, 

i38-4. 
pictorial,  see  also  Grouping,  52-4, 
61. 
Erler,  Fritz,  i4i  note. 
Essentials  of  ^Esthetics,  i5o  note. 
Estimates,  see  Budget. 
Euripides,  4,  8. 
Evans,  H.  A.,  4i. 

Exits,  28,  82-8,  85,  87,  107,  109,  188, 
2o4-5,  210,  218,  2i5-i6,  222,  227-8, 
254,  276. 
Expenditure,  see  Budget. 
Ebq>enditure  sheet,  see  also  Budget, 

268-4. 
Exposition,  89. 

Elxpression,   facial,   see  also  Acting, 
120,  127, 229. 


Fairies,  87,  i56,  208,  2i4-i5,  228. 

Farce,  71-2. 

Faust,  i4i  note. 

Fencing,  124. 

Festivals,  agricultural,  38,  201. 

general,  27,  92,  207. 
Festival  of  the  Giant,  3o. 
Festivals,  Greek,  8,  i4,  178-4,  198-4. 
Festival  of  the  Incas,  80. 
Festivals,  lyric  quality  of,  81. 

mediaeval,  27,  i54. 

modem,  81,  77,  192,  201-a. 

Renaissance,  27. 


INDEX 


363 


Festival  spirit,  82. 

Festivals,  spring,  i4. 

Fiddle,  see  also  Violins,  243. 

Figures,  see  Grouping. 

Finale,  see  Exits. 

Financial  statement,  see  also  Budget, 

263. 
Fire,  Pageant  of,  65-6. 
Fire  protection,  269. 
Floats,  use  of,  28,  32,  4o. 
Flood  lights,  see  Lighting. 
Flutes,  248,  25o. 

Folk-dance,  see  Dance,  and  Festivals. 
Folk-drama,  see  Drama,  folk. 
Folk-lore,  22,  34,  36,  39,  i56,  202-8, 

221,  282. 
Folk-songs,  see  Music,  and  Festivals. 
Footlights,  see  Lighting. 
Form,  structural,  see  also  Chap.  Ill, 

22,  i35. 
Fourth  of  July,  27,  81. 
Frame,  see  F*ro8cenium. 
Frieze,  i42-3,  174. 
Front  of  the  house,  260. 
Fuchs,  Georg,  i42  note. 


Gabler,  Hedda,  100. 

Gainsborough,  i44* 

Galsworthy,  71  note. 

Gamett,  Professor,  84. 

Garrick,  119. 

Gesture,  see  also  Acting,  iig-21,  126, 

128,  228,  229. 
Globe  Theatre,  6. 
Glossen  zum  Theater  der  Fiinftausend, 

iSS  note. 
Gong,  25o. 
Goo<l  Friday,  i55. 
Gray,  284. 
Grandstand,  268-9. 
Greek  chorus,  see  Chorus. 
Greek  drama,  see  Drama,  Greek. 


Greg,  W.  W.,  42  note. 
Grounds,  266-69. 

Grouping,  82,  84,  94-5,  97-8,  107, 
no,    ii5.    Chap.    \1,    160,    i65, 

173-5,      181,      2IO,      2I2-l4,      226-7, 
229,    281. 

Groups,  processional,  108,  i38,  229. 

recessional,  83,  i38. 
Group  leaders,  270. 
Group-system  of  authorship,  44-5. 
Guarantee  fund,  262-8. 
Guise,  due  de,  29. 
Gymkhana,  29. 

H 

Halloween,  27. 

Hamlet,  119. 

Hamlet,  i4i  note. 

Handbook  of  Legendary  and  Mytho- 
logical Art,  idSnote. 

Hanover,  N.  H.,  89  note. 

Harmony,  97-8,  117  note,  119,  i3o, 
182,  187,  i46,  i5i,  i58,  160,  162-5, 
168,  1 70-1,  174,  2o5,  242. 

Harp,  248. 

Harvest  Home,  27,  201-2. 

Havemeyer,  Loomis,  194  note. 

Henry  the  Fifth,  5,  87-^. 

Heraldry,  i55-8. 

Hero  and  Leander,  89  note. 

Hertford  Pageant,  5i  and  note. 

Hill  School,  268  note. 

History,  see  Episodes,  historical,  and 
Allegory. 

Holidays,  celebration  of,  see  also 
Festivals,  3i-2,  84-6. 

Holinshed,  59. 

Hood,  Robin,  35,  89,  i56,  208. 

Horace,  12. 

Horizon,  see  Cyclorama. 

Horn,  alio,  249. 

Horn,  English.  248. 

Horn,  French,  24^5o. 


364 


INDEX 


Horns,  248-5o. 

Hospital  tent,  369. 

Hudson-FuUon      Celebration,      New 

York,  28. 
Hues,  see  Color. 
Hulme,  F.  Edward,  i58  note. 
Hymns,  see  also  Anthem,  254. 


Ibsen,  71. 

Idea  play,  70-1. 

Iliad,  190. 

Illumination,  see  Lighting. 

Illusion,  theatrical,  5,  5q,  77  and  note, 
78-9,  84,  86-7,  97,  io5-6,  ii4,  127, 
i33,  i4i,  i43,  173,  200,  243. 

Illustrative  dance,  see  Dance,  illus- 
trative. 

Imagination,  24,  27,  64.  74.  85-6,  89, 

97-8,   I05,   III,   Il4,   1 34,  225. 

Incidental  music,  see  Music. 
Income,  260-2,  268. 
Independence  Day,  see  also  Fourth 
of  July,  3i. 
Declaration  of,  3i. 
Indian  music,  243. 
Indians,  American,  see  also  Drama, 

pageant.  Drama,  dance,  22. 
Inscenierung,    see    also    Production, 

Setting,  75  note. 
Institutions,  see  also  Pageantry,  insti- 

tutioned,  25. 
Interchange,  Principle  of,  i46. 
Interiors,  see  also  Setting,  4- 
Interludes,  allegorical,  see  also  Alle- 
gory,   19,   21-4,   61,   64,   89,    i42, 
168-9,  174. 
choral,  see  also  Chorus,  61-2. 
dance,  62,    no,    i38,    i53,    198, 
aoi-2,  206,  224,  240-1. 
Intonation,  121  note,  128. 
Irving,  Henry,  117  note,  120  note,  121 
note,  139  note. 


Isis  River,  83  note. 

Italian  drama,  see  Pastorals. 

Ivanov,  M.,  77  note. 


Jews,  157. 

Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel,  77  note. 

Jousting,  3o. 

Judas,  1 57 


Kahane,  Arthur,  i38  note. 
Kettle-drums,  249. 
Key  colors,  see  Color. 


Labor  Day,  27,  32. 
Lamb,  Charles,  35  note. 
Langdon,  William  Chauncey,  3i. 
Leaping,    see    also    Dance,     210-11, 

222. 

Lectures  on  Painting,  i33  note. 
Legends,  see  also  Folk-lore,  22,  36,  39, 

49,  201-2,  266. 
Legrand,  Mile.,  75. 
Lent,  1 54-5,  157. 
Lessing,  3. 

Letharby,  W.  R.,  i5i  note. 
Lewes,  George  Henry,  i23  note. 
Liber  Clericorum,  i56  note. 
Liber  Sacerdotalis,  i56  note. 
Light,  see  also  Color,  Costuming,  and 

Setting,  76,  78,  93,  i44.  i47.  171- 
Lighting,  89-93,  95,    io3-6,  111-12, 

i3^i4i,   i48,   170-4,   187-9,   253, 

260. 
Lincoln's  Birthday,  32. 
Line,  see  also  Mass,  i35-7,  i38  note, 

i3q,  i4i-2,  i45,  180-1. 
Line  and  Form,  i35  note,  i5q  note. 
Lisbon,  28. 
Louis  XI,  68  note. 
Louis  XIII,  29. 


INDEX 


365 


M 

Machinerie  ihedtrale,  i6i  note. 

Mackaye,  Percy,  24  note,  4i- 

Macready,  120  note. 

Maeterlinck,  77,  i^a  note. 

Magic,  see  Black  Art. 

Magic  of  the  Hills,  Sq-Ao,  i53,  199, 

209,  23 1-3. 
Make-up,  276-7. 
Malingre,  Mathieu,  26  note. 
Marks,  Jeanette,  42  note. 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  i55. 
Masque,  Elizabethan,  34- 

modem,  4i  and  note,  42—3. 
Masque  of  Days,  35  note. 
Masque  of  the  Medieval  Curriculum,  20. 
Masque  of  Proserpine,  34- 
Masque  of  St.  Louis,  24,  4i. 
Mass,  see  also  Line,  i36-7,  i42,  i44-5, 

i47,  i5i-2,  i58,  180-1,  210,  227. 
Materials,  costume,  see  Costume. 
Materials,  historical,  45. 
May  Day,  27,  33-4,  35  note,  200. 
May,  Pageant  of,  34. 
May  Pole,  see  also  May  Day,  34,  aoo. 
May,  Revels  of,  34. 
Medley,  see  also  Music,  243. 
Melodrama,  71. 

Melody,  see  also  Music,  242-3,  248. 
Metal    Work,    see    alio    Properties, 

i85-6. 
Meyerhold,  i42  note. 
Middle  Ages,  q,  i54,  i56. 
Midsummer  Nights  Dream,  5,  87. 
Mimetic,  see  Pantomime. 
MimcMlance     drama,     see     Drama, 

dance. 
Minuet,  see  also  Dance,  illustrative, 

200. 
Miracle    plays,    see    also    Mysteries, 

H-fl,  1 4- 1 5. 
Mfxlerwell,  H.  K.,  76  note,  98  note, 

99  note. 


Mohawk  Trail,  Pageant  of,  22  note. 

Mood,  see  also  Tone,  73-4,  76,  i3o, 
i52,  i58,  i65,  188,  198,  201,  2o4-8, 
2i3-i4,  222,  23i-2,  234,  240-1, 
244. 

Morality  plays,  9,  64. 

Morris  dsmce,  see  also  Dance,  illus- 
trative, 35,  192,  200,  243. 

Mort  de  Tintagiles,  i42  note. 

Moses,  1 58. 

Motif,  see  also  Music,  212,  24o. 

Mount  Vernon,  38. 

Movement,  see  also  Acting,  Dance, 
Gesture,  Grouping,  76,  78,  96,  120, 
i34-6,  i39,  i43,  i47,  160,  197-8, 
2o3-4,  206,  2io-i5,  222-4,  226-7, 
229-30,  235. 

Moynet,  Georges,  161  note. 

Music,  i52,    2o4,    226-7,   Chap.    X, 
226. 
composer,  see  Music,  director, 
director,  62,  2o4-5,  233,  236-8, 

240,  244,  246,  253-4. 
drama,  see  Drama,  dance, 
original,  see  also  Music,  62,  238. 

Musik  und  die  Inscenierung,  75  note. 

Mysteries,  see  also  Miracle  plays,  8. 

Mythology,  classic,  3o,  36,  39. 

Myths,  see  also  Legends,  22. 

N 
Natural  dancing,  see  Dance. 
Nature  SpiriLs,  see  Allegory. 
Naval  pageants,  28-9. 
Navy,  Pageant  of,  25. 
Neutral  colors,  see  Color. 
New  Amsterdam,  181. 
Newark,  New  Jersey,  257  note. 
New  York,  28,  33,  34  noU. 
Nietzsche,  i3i  note. 
North  Adams,  Mass.,  22  note. 
North's  Plutarch,  69. 
Nurse,  269. 


366 


INDEX 


o 

Oboes,  248,  260. 

Obstacle,  see  also  Drama  technique, 

67. 
Orchestra,  see  also  Music,  227,  288, 

244-53. 
Orchestration,   see  also  Music,   2o5, 

238,  244,  253. 
Order  slips,  263-4- 
Organization,  Chap.  XI. 
Orleans,  le  mystkre  du  sikge  d\  21  note. 
Osiris,  i54. 
Oxford,  Pageant  of,  20,  83  note. 


Pageant  drama,  see  Drama,  pageant. 
Pageantry,  American  type,  19,  2i-3. 

basis  of,  18. 

Carrousel  type,  29. 

educational  value  of,  11. 

English  type,  19. 

historical,  18-19,  77,  87,  89. 

idea  type,  29. 

indoors,  see  also  Production,  92- 
94,  io5. 

institutional    (social   and    civic) 
type,  25,  64. 

limitations  of,  18,  3?,  89. 

material  of,  see  also  Chap.  II,  i3. 

naval  type,  28,  29. 

practical  value  of,  11-12. 

preserver  of  traditions,  i5. 

principles  of,  Chap.  I. 

processional  type,  28,  3o,  32-3, 
4o-42. 

purposes  of,  7,  17,  35,  43,  5o, 
286-7. 

as  recreation,  16. 

as  reform,  social,  11. 

structure  of,  Chap.  III. 

types  of.  Chap.  II. 
Panama  Canal,  78. 
Pcmdora,  History  of,  3q  note. 


Panorama,  see  Cyclorama. 

Pantomime,  see  also  Acting,  Gesture, 
19,  53,  121,  174,  202,  207,  280,  282, 
285. 

Pantomimic  dance,  see  Dance, 
Drama,  dance. 

Paris,  29. 

Paris  Opera,  89  note,  76  note. 

Parker,  Louis  N.,  17,  19,  26,  88-9. 

Parking  space,  267. 

Patronesses,  266. 

Pelleas  et  Melisande,  77. 

Pennell,  Joseph,  78,  i43. 

Percussion  instruments,  242,  247,  25o. 

Personification,  see  Allegory. 

Perspective,  see  also  Production,  Set- 
ting, 82,  I02-4,  109,  188-9,  i4i-5, 
226. 

Perugini,  196  note. 

Petrouchka,  199. 

Petty  cash,  263-4. 

Piano-forte,  252-3,  271. 

Piccolo,  248. 

Pikce-a-thhse,  69. 

Pipe  and  tabor,  243. 

Pitch,  25o. 

Place  Royale,  29. 

Plattsburgh  Centennial  Celebration,  5i. 

Plays,  Acting,  and  Music,  i3o  note, 
i3i  note. 

Plays,  see  Drama. 

Plays,  religious,  see  also  Miracle  and 
Morality  plays,  Mysteries,  i4. 

Plot,  see  Drama  technique.  Pagean- 
try, structure  of. 

Poel,  William,  44- 

Poetics,  71  note. 

PoUce,  269. 

Popular  Amusements,  192  note. 

Portugal,  27. 

Pose,  see  also  Acting,  Dance,  119,  i43, 
i46,  196,  228. 

Positive  colors,  see  Color. 


INDEX 


367 


Posters,  272. 

Pougin,  X76  note. 

Primeiry  colors,  see  Color. 

Primitive  music,  see  Music. 

Principles  of  Harmony  and  Contrast 
of  Colors,  172  note. 

Principles  of  Pageantry,  Chap.  I. 

Processional  groups,  see  Grouping. 

Processional  pageants,  see  Pageantry, 
processional. 

Producer,  problems  of,  see  also  Pro- 
duction, 78-fl. 

Production,  definition  of,  75. 
methods  of.  Chap.  FV. 

Programs,  268,  272. 

Progress  of  Poesy,  234. 

Prologue,  see  also  Pageantry,  struc- 
ture of,  89. 

Prometheus,  65. 

Prompter,  276. 

Properties,  88,  11 1,  i85-6,  228,  244- 

Proportion,  78,  79-80,  96-8,   io3-4, 
i3o,  i37,  i5o,  i65,  247. 

Proscenium,  109. 

Publicity,  see  also  Committee,  pub- 
licity, 269-60,  264-6,  270. 

Pyrrhic  dance,  207. 


Quadrille,  on  horseback,  29. 

Quartette,  246. 

Quartette,  brass,  249- 

Queen      EUizabeth,      see     Elizabeth, 

Queen. 
Queen  of  the  tournament,  3o. 

R 

Radiation,  see  Line. 

Ramps,  109. 

Raymond,  George  Lansing,  i5o  note, 

i52  note. 
Realistic  treatment,  see  also  Drama 

technique.  Pageantry,  structure  of. 


Production,  78-4,  77,  79,  loo-a, 
io5,  i4i-2,  173. 

Recessional  groups,  see  Grouping. 

Recreation  through  pageantry,  see 
Pageantry,  recreation. 

Recreative  dancing,  see  Dance,  recrea- 
tive. 

Reed,  Professor  E.  B.,  a6  note. 

Reformation,  9. 

Refreshments,  268-9. 

Regisseur,  see  also  Producer,  76  note, 
77  note. 

Register,  musical,  246. 

Rehearsals,  see  also  Acting,  Produc- 
tion, 116,  i3i-2,  2o5,  Chap.  IX, 
pt.  2,  244-6,  249,  253,  271,  275. 

Reinhardt,  Max,  i36  note. 

Religion  in  drama,  see  Drama,  Greek, 
Festivals,  Miracle  Plays,  Mys- 
teries. 

Rembrandt,  187. 

Renaissance,  9,  26. 

Renaissance,  Literary  Criticism  in  the, 
71  note. 

Repetition,  i36,  i44-5,  206,  208, 
211-12,  254. 

Revolution  des  Thedters,  1^2  note. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  i43. 

Rhythm,  see  Music,  Dance. 

Rhythmic  progression,  see  also  Demce, 
2o5,  208,  211. 

Richelieu,  68  note. 

Rochelle,  25  note. 

Roman  Emperors,  167. 

Romantic  treatment,  see  also  Design, 
decorative,  78,  100. 

Rouche,  Jacques,  76. 

Rousseau,  Je^n  Jacques,  1 18  note. 

Running,  see  also  Dance,  210-11, 
222. 

Russian  ballet,  io{),  202-3. 

Russian  dance  drama,  see  Dance, 
drama. 


368 


INDEX 


Ruskin,  i45,  i47  noie,  i5i  note,  i5g 
note,  i6i  note. 


Satan,  iSy. 

S^  ABxms,  Pageant  of,  20,  162,  aBa, 
267. 

St.  Frideswide,  20. 

St.  George,  63. 

St.  Giles'  Fair,  20. 

St.  Jerome,  i54. 

St.  Louis,  Pageant  of,  24,  252. 

St.  Paul,  Minn.,  33. 

Scale,  see  also  Proportion,  i3,  4i. 
79-81,  96-8,  io3,  i4o. 

Scale  of  colors,  see  Color. 

Scene,  see  Episodes,  and  Setting. 

Scenery,  see  also  Setting,  84,  86,  88, 
94,  96,  100,  102,  io5-6,  i4i,  170. 

Science,  PagearU  of,  26. 

Score,  musical,  see  Music. 

Screens,  see  also  Scenery  and  Setting, 
85,  109,  186-9. 

Sea-chanties,  24o. 

Seats,  see  Grandstand,  and  Produc- 
tion. 

Secretary  of  the  pageant,  259-60. 

Sdected  music,  see  Music. 

Servandoni,  39  note. 

Setting,  see  also  Production,  79,  83-8, 
91,  94-7,  100-2,  io4-5,  109,  ii4, 
i48,  i5i,  i54,  i58,  170,  186-9,  228, 

24l. 

Shades,  see  Color. 

Shakespeare,  4-5,  37-39,  59,  77  note, 

i56. 
Sharp,  Cecil,  192. 
Sherboume,  17,  19,  26. 
Ships,  use  of,  see  Pageantry,  naval. 
Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  5,  42  note. 
Silhouette,  costume,  see  Costume. 
Singing,  see  Chorus,  and  Music. 
Skipping,  see  also  Dance,  223. 


Sleeper,  Professor,  245. 

Smith  College,  245. 

Snare  drums,  249. 

Song,  see  Chorus  and  Music. 

Sophocles,  3,  8. 

Soprano,  246. 

Sound,  see  also  Dialogue,  and  Music, 

76,  78,  96,  1 47,  198,  2o4,  244. 
Spirit  ol  the  production,  see  Produc- 
tion. 
Spirits,  nature,  see  Allegory. 
Spoken  words,  see  Dialogue. 
Spot  lights,  see  Lighting. 
Stage,  back    (rear),   8o-84,   87,    io4, 
107-8,  i4i. 
business,    see   also   Acting,    116 

and  note,  119. 
centre,  84  note,  i38. 
directions,  see  also  Production, 

53. 
domed,  io4. 

Eliz£ibethan,  4,  6,  25,  77,  ii4. 
fore,  80,  82,  88,  95-7,  io4,  107-8, 
no,  112,  i38,  i4o-i.  i43,  228, 
23o,  25 1 -2. 
indoor,  80,  85,  93,   106,   i4i-5, 

170-3,  228,  247,  25o-i. 
intimate,  see  Stage,  fore, 
lighting,  see  Lighting, 
middle,  80-84,  87,  i38-9,  i4i. 
models,    i46,    i48,    160-1,    i63, 

170,  188. 
outdoor,  see  also  Dance,  4,   i3, 
80-5,  i34-5,  i38-4i,  i45,  247, 
249-52. 
plans,  80,  107-10. 
presence,    see   also   Acting,    and 

Dance,   119. 
setting,  see  Setting, 
tri-partite,  80,  82,  86,  89,  108. 
Staging,  see  Production. 
Stained  Glass  Work,  i5i  note. 
Stanislavsky,   i42  note. 


INDEX 


369 


Steps,  see  also  Dtmce,  210-11,  23i-2. 
Stevens,  Henry  Wood,  24  note. 
Story  play,  see  also  Drama  technique, 

68. 
Stratford-on-Avon,  192. 
Stringed  instruments,  247-8,  260-1. 
Structure,  dance,  see  Dance. 
Structure,  drama,    see   Drama    tech- 
nique. 
Structure,     pageant,     see     Pageant, 

structure. 
Stylisation,  see  also  Production,  99- 

io3,  189. 
Sumur&n,  199. 
Suspense,  see  also  Drama  technique, 

208,  211,  2l3. 
Symbolism,  see  also  Allegory,  63-6, 

i54-5,  199-201,  2i4,  321. 
Symbolism  in  Christian  Art,  i58  note. 
Symmetry,  see  also  Production,  84, 

137,  i39,  i44- 
Symons,  Arthur,  i3o  note,  i3i  note. 


Teibleau,  see  also  Episode,  static,  53, 

174-5. 
Tabor  and  pipe,  243. 
Taglioni,  Mme.,  196. 
Taine,  96. 
Talma,  119. 
Technique,  dance,  see  Dance. 

drama,  see  Drama,  technique, 
pageant,    see    Pageantry,    struc- 
ture. 
Tempo,    117,    198,    2o4,    ao6,     208, 

2 1 2- 1 3,  226,  253. 
Tenor,  246. 
Thamhr,  199. 
Thanksgiving.  27. 
Theatre,  see  Production,    and    Stage, 

incloor. 
Theatre,     Greek,     see    also    Drama, 

Greek,  4.  ii4> 


Theatre,  pageant,  see  Stage,  indoors. 

Theatre,  Portmanteau,  33. 

Theatre  of  Today,  76  note,  98  note,  99 
note. 

Theme  play,  see  also  Drama,  tech- 
nique, and  Pihce-a-thhe,  69-71. 

Thomas  a  Becket,  25. 

Three  Daughters  of  M.  Duponl,  71. 

Ticket  booths,  269. 

Time,  see  also  Pageant,  structure,  52, 
59,  121,  2o4,  224. 

Tints,  see  Color. 

Tolstoi,  io5. 

Tone,  see  also  Mood,  37,  73-4,  76, 
117  note,  i48,  162,  i58,  i65,  174, 
188,  198,  247,  249-5o,  262. 

Tovoards  a  New  Theatre,  3,  i36  note. 

Trades'  Guilds,  8. 

Traditions,  see  Chap.  I  and  Chap.  II. 

Tragedy,  71-2,  77,  97,  i3i  note,  i53, 
236,  243. 

Transportation,  266-7. 

Traps  (drums),  25o. 

Treasurer,  262-4. 

Triangle,  25o. 

Trinity,  Feast  of  the,  i56. 

Triumphs,  metUaeval,  i4,  4o. 

Trombones,  248-5o. 

Trumpets,  248-5o. 

Tuba,  248-9. 

Tuileries,  29,  39  note. 

TwirUng,  see  also  Dance,  210-11,  22a. 

Tympani,  iho. 

U 

Ulysses,  Various  Adventures  of,  Zq 
note. 

Unity,  i3,  19,  38,  72-4,  88-9,  91,  96, 
io3,  io5-6,  129  note,  i32,  i36-7, 
1 44.  '46,  234,  254. 

University  page^inLs,  see  also  Pagean- 
try, institutional,  26. 

Ushers,  268. 


370 


INDEX 


Vfdenciennes,  3o. 

Variety,  8i,  ii8,  laS,  i36-8,  i88,  2i3, 

226,  247. 
Verulamium,  20,  267. 
Vestal  virgins,  i54. 
View,  82-4. 
Vintage,  201-2. 
Violas,  247-8,  25o. 
Violins,  247,  25o-i,  253. 
Violoncellos,  247-8,  260-1. 
Virgin  Mary,  i54. 
Vision,  see  also  Dreams,  22-a4,  5o. 
Vista,  see  View. 
Voice   production,    see   also   Acting, 

I I 7-18. 
Vouchers,  see  Order  slips. 
Von  Bezold,  149. 

W 

Wagner,  Richard,  10,  17,  45,  67  note, 

76  note,  i3o,  236,  239. 
Walker,  Stuart,  33. 


Walking,  see  also  Acting,  £ind  Dance, 

210-11,  222. 
Walla  Walla,  Washington,  34. 
Wardrobe  mistress,  see  also  Costume, 

273-4. 
Warm  colors,  see  Color. 
Washington's  Birthday,  27,  32. 
Washington,  George,  38,  52-3,  i33-4. 
Waste,  71  note. 
Weapons,   see  also  Properties,    i85, 

275. 
Whitsuntide,  i55,  192. 
William  the  Conqueror,  25. 
Wind  instruments,  247-5i. 
Wings,  83,  276. 
Womum,  R.  N.,  i33  note. 

Y 

Yale,  26. 

Yale  Pageant,  45. 

Yeats,  W.  B.,  77. 

Z 

Zeus,  1 54. 


UCLA-CotU^Lib^^ 

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